AN: Okay I desperately need advise with this fic I'm not really sure what to do ;_; I'm affraid that I will get stuck again and not update . So please tell me your thoughts... also I still don't have a beta reader . so sorry for any grammar or continuity errors!

Glimpse

The evening's hours crawled by slowly. Normally Mihawk would have spent them engrossed in a project or working. Tonight he could not keep his focus on anything. Even Yoru seemed done with him, he glared at the sword that was innocently leaning against his office's wall. And why was he in his office again? He frowned, dismayed. He sighed and stared at his laptop. The device that was indirectly responsible for his frustration.

He could have just blocked 'Marimo' from his contact list and be done with it. But it seemed somehow wrong. He'd just wait until they were on and tell them he didn't have time for chatting anymore. Yes, that would work, he attempted to convince himself. He wandered to Yoru, stroking the blade, shivering as he was met with dissonant vibrations. Was this affecting him so much he had lost his harmony with himself and his sword? He shook his head.

Sighing he slumped in front of his laptop, seeing his chatpartner log in. Alright now, nice and easy, just a couple of words. He'd make it short. It would be over in a few seconds. He'd go back to his busy life, all the things he had... his work and his... his... what did he have? He felt cold.

'Hey. I missed you. Well, talking to you. You know what I mean.' the words appearing on his screen seared him and he slammed the laptop shut.

"Dammit..." he hissed, gritting his teeth. "Dammit, dammit, dammit..." he leaned back, burying his face into his hands. After sitting like that for a while, trying to clear his head of distracting thoughts, he took a look at the clock. 8 pm. He should head downstairs. Today Roronoa Zoro, the interesting young man that had caught his eye in the swordfighting circles would be bringing his blade to him to be documented.

Zoro stood in front of the Mariejois Museum and frowned at it's looming form, feeling uncharacteristically apprehensive. It's was almost 9 pm and the place was looking dark and deserted, like some kind of haunted house with it's old-timey architecture. This was the part where while watching a horror movie he would scream at the characters not to walk right into their fucking obvious demise.

"Come on man, pull yourself together." he grumbled at himself, rolling his eyes. He was just going to meet a guy, stand there while Wadou was being photographed or something and be done with it. It was just that the guy happened to be his intimidating new boss,who kinda had this ominous serial killer vibe to him. Damn the man was fine piece of work, but those petrifying eyes had something spine-chilling in them...

He shuffled towards the main entrance, he was unsure of where exactly they were supposed to meet up but he assumed walking through the front door would do the trick. There would probably be guards – his future co-workers – he could bother. He walked into the lobby where a few staff members seemed to be loitering around, changing a few words with eachother before leaving or starting their shifts. One guard stood further from the group, next to the doors, looking like he was waiting for something. He perked up when he spotted the student coming through the entrance.

"Roronoa Zoro?"

"Ye."

"I was told to show you the way, follow me please."

The young man nodded, tailing after the guard. A red-haired man talking with the group caught his eye. He looked fairly normal, maybe about thirty? The scars covering one side of his face were what awoke Zoro's curiosity. He averted his eyes after a brief glimpse – he didn't want to stare.

They began descending a set of stairs.

"I guess he wasn't joking about the cellar..." he mumbled.

"Hm? This is where some of the storage vaults and conservation lab are. Don't worry, it's anything but dark and damp." the guard grinned at him. And just as he had said it was just as polished and professional looking as the rest of the museum.

He was guided into a well-lit spacious room with rows of locked closets along the walls and photo studio equipment. Dracule Mihawk was fiddling with the equipment,sharp-dressed as ever in his dark ensemble, jacket tossed over the back of a chair. He did nothing to acknowledge the younger man first, and Zoro even began to wonder if he had somehow missed him entering, but then the man's golden eyes shot a slanted glance at him.

"So. You came, then."

"You told me to." Zoro shrugged, peeved by the man's attitude.

"I most certainly did not. I requested." The man said nonchalantly, with his back towards the other.

"Whatever, you asked, I came." Zoro said snappishly, clenching his fists in his pockets. The hell was this guy's deal? He was his boss now though,the rational part of his brain reminded him – better behave.

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Provide me with the Wadou Ichimonji, if you would be so kind," he turned around, slowly walking up to Zoro with his hands behind his back. "and... just try to stay out of the way." he smiled, extending one of his arms expectantly. Zoro felt a slight tingle go through his body and narrowed his eyes, but nevertheless pulled the katana out of his bag, offering it to Dracule, who promptly took it and gently positioned it according to his purposes.

At least he was treating 'his lady' with respect, Zoro mused grudgingly. For a long while he just milled about the room, watching Dracule snap shots of the katana in different angles and lightning, with and without a grid. Somehow his features softened when he was handling the blade, he looked almost mellow.

"So..." Zoro began, thinking about their conversation on the phone. "what's this sword business all about?"

"I shall illuminate shortly." stated the earnestly focused man.

Zoroplopped himself down in a chair with a resigned huff. He had almost dozed off , when Dracule was suddenly looming over him.

"Done." he announced matter-of-factly, turning and striding towards the door. "Come along now." he prompted, smirking as Zoro scampered after him with his newly returned katana in his hands.

Dracule lead them through a security checkpoint and into a hallway which lead to what seemed to be a vault. "They must keep their most valuable items here..." Zoro thought as the older man punched in a code and released to doors. Stepping inside, Zoro found himself in awe. The vast space resembled somekind of bastard child of a trophy room and a study. The look and feel of it was older than what he had seen of the premises. This space... it didn't feel like it was used by many people. His attention was soon stolen by the items on display, no doubt protected by some security system also.

Swords. Named blades, undoubtedly.

"...How?"

"Money. Hours and hours of vexing negotiations. And one must not forget miss Tashigi's determination to see that these treasures are preserved and treated with respect. Most of them are part of the museum's collection but some I privately own."

Somehow Zoro suspected there was something else to it too. He shook the feeling off and admired the stunning blades.

A large empty weapon rack attracted his attention. It was placed kind of in an honorary spot, but there was no sign of it's contents. 'Kokutou Yoru'...? read the label.

"Aah, yes – the 'lady of the night' is absent. She is receiving some well deserved attention in the hands of conservationists." Dracule's piercing golden eyes softened, but only for a moment.

The older man looked almost approachable then. Weight on the word almost. Sure he was charming and eloquent in front of people, and whatever else the girls from his school had said earlier but there was something off-putting in his stare. Judging by all the vibes Zoro had gotten this wasn't a guy who liked people, but liked to use them when it suited him. The younger man suspected that there was something else besides this cozy photographing session he wanted from him. He didn't think he had bothered to offer him a job just out of pure kindness of heart and love of people. There was something else going on and he didn't have a good feeling about it.

"How did you get it.?" The older man inquired suddenly, shaking Zoro out of his thoughts.

"Eh? Wadou?"

The taller man nodded.

"I'd like to document the sword's history as thoroughly as possible. Is it a family heirloom? If you have any information on the previous owners I'd apprecia-"

"C-could we do that some other time?" the youth stammered. Suddenly a door inside him was open, to a room of memories that he was not prepared to enter so suddenly.

"...Certainly." The raven-haired man raised an eyebrow slightly.

"It's... getting late and all that."

"Wouldn't want mom and dad to worry, would we?"

"I don't have parents." Zoro blurted with a deadpan face. He braced himself for some pitying look or awkward apology. He must have thought Zoro was weird somehow, people usually did when he wasn't the teary-eyed stereotype on that particular detail of his past.. However Dracule only looked him calmly in the eyes, and simply said;

"I see. You have my understanding."

Well that was a first. Puzzling. It felt nice though. He had quickly grown tired of people's pity. How could he miss something he had never had? People he had never known? Why waste time on that? He wasn't broken but people rarely understood that. But Dracule... his wording puzzled him... he understood? From his own experience?

They bid eachother good night politely in the hallway, Zoro telling the tall imposing man that he'd show himself out. The guy was seriously getting to him... What was his deal?

The group or guards from before had dispersed, it was deserted, only one man strode past Zoro on the steps outside, the red hair catching Zoro's eye. He made his way swiftly down the stairs, jacket slung over one shoulder despite the crisp night air. It took Zoro a moment to realize why the man looked weird – his sleeve was pinned up where the stump of his arm ended.

"Must have been some accident..." Zoro thought – then freezing in shock. Didn't... Hawk-Eyes's friend... His arm and his face! No. No it couldn't be. It just – it couldn't. But how many people were there in the city like that!? No he was just thinking too much into it – he didn't even know if Hawk-Eyes or his friend still lived in the city, they could have moved.

Besides it didn't add up did it? Hawk-Eyes had been in the fencing club, and it had only started a few years ago, right? This guy didn't look old but surely he was too old for it to make sense?

Zoro realized he had spaced out in the middle of the steps. Dammit, this was driving him crazy! He gro aned aloud in his frustration.

Meanwhile in the studio downstairs Mihawk picked up a small device from the floor. The lad must have dropped his phone, he thought, looking at it curiously. Roronoa Zoro, what a strange young man. He reminded him of the youths of his own days, when the city was restless and plagued with gang wars. There was a fighter's spark inside him.

Perhaps that was part of the reason Roronoa attracted him. He chuckled – what a dirty old man he was... chatting with students all night long and luring them into deserted underground spaces. He took Roronoa's phone and the camera's memory card with him and retired to his office. He'd drop the phone at the info desk when he left, surely it would find it's way back to his owner from there, at least by the time Roronoa begun his first shift.

He set the phone beside his laptop and grabbed a bottle of stale mineral water that had been sitting on his desk for days. He couldn't bring himself to care about the taste, now that his interesting meeting was over he was again consumed by his conflicted feelings about his chat partner... It should have been easy to just quit the whole thing but while reading their messages, for the first time after Shanks had prevailed on his quest for friendship it felt like someone cared and was interested.

It gnawed him that almost his entire social life was dependant on Shanks and Benn. Sometimes it felt like they pitied him. Now he had this strange connection that was entirely his. He leaned into his hand and sighed. There was just the little problem that it happened to be with an unknown person on the internet who could be just fooling around, but something inside him hoped dearly it wasn't so.

He smiled bittersweetly as he read the messages that had come after his meltdown.

'You've been quiet, I hope everything's ok. It's not like you need to but... If you want to you can talk to me. If there's something going on.'

Mihawk took a deep breath... and begun typing. He couldn't let this go after all... not just yet.

'I am well, thank you. I apologize for not responding, I seem to have forgotten to log out. I didn't mean to worry you.'

A chime alerted him when the phone next to him lit up. What a careless youth, not even having his phone locked... He froze as he saw the notification on the screen

'A new message from Hawk-Eyes'