A/N: I do not own One Piece or any of its affiliated characters.

"You couldn't just go find a pair of scissors?" Zoro growled, putting his swords back in his harameki. "I leave for what, five minutes to take a piss-"

"I couldn't care less about your bathroom habits," Hancock said bluntly, eyeing the swords with a look of disappointment. "I just need it done. And as soon as possible."

Zoro stared at her as she blushed, seemingly lost in her own love sick thoughts.

"If I change my appearance, perhaps Luffy will compliment me."

Zoro couldn't remember a time in his life when he had heard Luffy give a compliment on appearance. At least not the type he knew she was hoping for.

You'd probably be more successful just attaching rockets to your arms and shooting beams out of your eyes…

"Hurry up and do it," she said impatiently, sitting in the grass and tying her hair in a low ponytail.

"I seriously think you should find someone else to do this," he said, grimacing. It wasn't that he minded doing it, it was more like this kind of thing counted as…well, fashion and shit didn't it? Roronoa Zoro's swords were meant for killing. Not grooming.

"If you're afraid you'll screw up I suppose I can find someone else," she said sharply. She stood back up and shrugged. "Actually, now that I think about it, you're probably the least competent among the members of Luffy's crew. How stupid of me. The navigator should be done with her map by now…"

"Sit the fuck down," Zoro seethed, pulling out Shuusui and taking the tied off hair in his hand.

His eye widened a little in surprise. Her hair was amazingly kept, the silky black strands creating the illusion that bundled together, they were one. He could tell she probably put fancy oil in it, because it felt like something that should be sold in an expensive fabric store instead of chopped off on a whim.

"You sure you wanna do this?" he asked seriously. "You have really nice hair. I don't wanna be the bad guy if you end up pissed that it's gone."

"Just do it," she exacerbated, blushing slightly at his praise. "And stop touching my hair. That's disgusting."

"Fine."

In one swift motion, her hair was detached. Zoro held it in his hand, eye glancing at her head to see how she'd react. She brought one tentative hand up to feel, the ends pressing near the nape of her neck. He bent down to put the hair on the ground.

"It's short," she whispered.

"Um…yeah," he said awkwardly, standing up straight again. "That's what happens when you cut hair. It gets shorter."

She turned around so he could see her face. It didn't quite register that she was railing on him for trying to belittle her. He simply stared at her and scratched at his cheek with one finger.

"It looks good," he muttered.

She stopped talking and blinked.

"What did you say?"

"I said," he pursed his lips and turned away, "I said it looks good. Your hair. Like that. It's pretty. You can see your neck and…" He blushed, realizing he was babbling now.

He grunted and swiftly retreated, muttering about having to help Chopper with something. Hancock stared after him, smirking knowingly.

Even that kind of guy…

Luffy walked out of the kitchen when Zoro entered, nibbling on a roll. He looked at Hancock, tilted his head, shrugged, and continued walking.

Hancock holed up in her room, which was normally the navigation room, for the rest of the day. She was too depressed to do anything else and eventually fell asleep. It got to be around the time everyone called it a night, and her stomach was starting to growl. Sitting up from the bed and quietly making her way down the ladder, she headed towards the kitchen.

The cook had, as she knew he would, put her plate of food on a heating pad set to low. She smiled. He really wasn't a bad cook at all.

Something next to the plate caught the empress' eye. It was her severed hair, laying neatly in a folded bundle like a towel. Her eyebrow rose questioningly and she picked up the note sitting on top of it.

You left this on the deck. I don't know what to do with it.

She laughed out loud at the messy hand writing, knowing it was the swordsman's. Not that she had expected anything but bluntness from him. Still, seeing something he had written himself was equally as funny as when he spoke…

It's cute. Your hair.

Oh. If she hadn't laughed before, she did now. He had signed his name at first, then tried to scribble it out. The sniper's name was written next to it.

You're such a moron...