Summary: Ace hasn't told ANYONE about his birthday; not Marco, not Thatch, and not even Whitebeard himself. Ace will never tell anyone about his birthday if he can help it. It isn't something he wants people to know, and it would be better if it just passed without fanfare. But, of all the people who DID know it, there was one who would ABSOLUTELY make it known, whether Ace wanted it or not.

Unexpected Birthdays, pt. 1

All Ace could do was stare at the box that landed in his lap.

He *really* should have expected this from *him*, of all people.

Despite the fact they were in separate seas, that straw-hat wearing brat would never pass up an opportunity to celebrate the *one day Ace didn't want to celebrate*, and now he was seriously regretting ever mentioning the date to that rubber brained idiot! Even if his little brother had smiled with the warmth of a thousand suns when Ace finally relented and revealed the date, and even *if* he felt the care that his little bro had put into the gift he got and decorations spread in their treehouse/base, and *even if* he looked forward to it every year since he told the little ball of sunshine, it still didn't help his current situation!

"Who's the box from, Ace?" Thatch asked with a hum as he leaned over the Second Division Commander's shoulder. Ace tensed, a blush creeping up his neck as his brain sparked and tried to come up with an answer. He was never good at lying on the spot, and his hesitation now only made it all the more obvious. He knew he wouldn't be able to get away with a simple answer now, considering all the time that slowly ticked on, so Ace did what he thought was the most appropriate response in this situation.

He ran like hell.

Thatch hadn't been prepared for the teen to launch himself from the sitting position he'd been in and bolt for the door, the package tucked in his arms like a precious child, and could only watch as he made a mad dash across the deck. He nearly knocked over Vista as he barreled through the deck door, jumping and skipping over steps until he'd made it to the Sleeping Quarters. He didn't even pause to pet Kotatsu on the back as he zoomed passed, shoving his door open and slamming it behind him. Breathing heavily, he sat on the floor, putting his back against the door as his thoughts shot off like bullets.

He probably had a few minutes to hide the box before someone came knocking on his door. The way he fled the scene would only make everyone suspicious… But it wasn't his fault! He didn't *expect* the seagulls to drop a package in his lap! Granted, he *had* been receiving presents like this since he left Fusha Village a few years ago, but they were never on the day of, usually the day before or the day after! This year was the first time it had arrived *on his* -

A knock on his door startled him out of his rapid-fire thoughts, and his body tensed as he held the box tightly in his hands. Maybe if he stayed quiet, they would just leave and assume he was somewhere else - Ace *did* have a few hiding spots around the ship.

However, there was another knock, followed by a familiar voice. "Ace, I know you're in there-!"

The teen jumped up and opened the door quickly, grabbing the blue-haired man by the arm and pulling him in.

Deuce gave a yelp as he was suddenly pulled into the Second Division Commander's room, barely catching his balance. The boy in question peeked into the hallway suspiciously, before closing the door and turning back around to face the bewildered man. Deuce could only fold his arms in suspicion at Ace's behavior, eyeing the root of it all - the package. If he hadn't been on the deck to witness what had happened, Deuce most likely would've been thinking what the rest of the crew was probably thinking: that Ace was up to no good, and that it would only be a matter of time before his antics were revealed.

Instead, as his former second-in-command, he had a sneaking suspicion of what the package truly entailed, and why the Second Division Commander was so agitated now. It was silent for a few uncomfortable moments as Deuce's thoughts flitted through one scenario after another, attempting to gauge what his next step would be. Finally, he let out a big sigh, sitting on the floor next to the uncharacteristically quiet Ace.

"Are you gonna open it?" He asked, nudging the package slightly with his finger. The Devil Fruit User didn't respond, staring at the box with an anxious and pensive look.

Deuce could probably guess what was going through his mind, from the way his hands tensed as he held the box, picking at the crappy and shoddily taped edges. From the angle he was sitting at, the blue-haired man could see the crude handwriting spelling out Ace's name, along with other childish drawings that meant nothing to Deuce - but he was sure they meant something to his Commander.

Before Ace could even form a proper response, there was yet another knock on his door. The two men froze, bodies tensing as they warily glanced at the slab of wood behind them. Ace hadn't gotten a chance to lock the door, and he could only hope that whoever was on the other side wouldn't bother to *actually* check and see if the half-dressed Commander was in there.

Naturally, his luck didn't work that way.

The doorknob started to jiggle as it was turned, and the two men scrambled from their seats on the floor. Ace, panicking, tossed the package to Deuce as he leaned against the door, putting some of his weight against it. With one hand, he mimed for Deuce to do something with the package, to which the blue-haired writer shook his head at. He did *not* want to be caught in the middle of whatever was going to happen! Whoever was on the other side of the door most likely was another Commander - aside from the former first mate, none of the other ex-Spade Pirates or other Second Division members would *dare* to enter Ace's room without his permission! That could only mean one of the Division leaders would open that door, and Deuce would prefer to stay out of the line of fire, thank you very much!

"Hah?" A muffled voice broke through the anxiety driven silence, sending the already nervous men's adrenaline soaring. The door had opened briefly, but with Ace's weight behind it, it didn't get far. "Door must be jammed, yoi…"

Ace's eyes widened to a size Deuce thought impossible, as the color drained from his face and his body started trembling. The blue-haired man felt his own heart drop to his feet at the *very* familiar verbal tic, and for once, his brain shut off and left the man standing stone still in the middle of Ace's room. He numbly gazed at the anxious freckled man, who waved his arm frantically once more. If Deuce didn't want to get involved earlier, he sure as *hell* didn't want to get involved now! Even if it was too late for him to be fully absolved of any involvement, perhaps if he explained his case, he could escape scrutiny?

Once more, his eyes wandered to Ace, who was pushing with all his might against the person on the other side. Deuce's breath caught in his throat as he locked gazes with his Commander, and for a moment, it seemed as though time had stood still.

Ace was *terrified*.

It was an emotion Deuce rarely saw on the Commander. More often than not, he was cocky and stubborn, hot-tempered and competitive - but caring and fiercely loyal in his own way, not to mention oddly polite in situations that *definitely* didn't call for it; even when in a tough spot, Ace could be observant and unremorseful to those who harmed the ones he called *family*, while gentle and kind if need be. He always had a certain charm to him that softened those around him, that made them open up, or come to terms with the demons that had been plaguing them. Again, Deuce was struck with the thought that Ace radiated the same energy as the sun - to this day, he hasn't met anyone who matched what he felt for Ace. He really was in a league of his own, and the longer Deuce knew him, the more he came to realize that.

Swallowing, Deuce began to look around the room, his brain kicking into overdrive as he tried to come up with a hiding spot. As usual, Ace's room was chaotic, so anywhere could potentially be a place to dispose of the incriminating evidence. But, Deuce had to think outside the box. The Commanders might not know Ace as well as Deuce did, but they knew him well enough to know where he'd hide things that he didn't want to be found. That meant his paperwork and laundry basket were out of the question. He could simply shove the box under the bed, but a quick glance underneath told him it was too small of a hiding spot - the closet, under the covers, and on the desk would not do either.

Another big shove against the door caused Ace to yelp, and the jiggling doorknob stopped. The silence was so loud Deuce swore he could hear Ace's heartrate jack up. "Ace, are you leaning against the door…? Did your narcolepsy attack again, yoi?"

"Uh… Um-!" The Commander stalled, knowing the door would be opened in less than ten seconds. Deuce had no choice, then. If the box itself was too big, then he had to get rid of it!

Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a dagger he'd taken to carrying around with him. Quickly and without any care for accuracy, he tore into the box's taping, and with frenzied fingers, ripped open the flaps just as Marco, the First Division Commander, finally managed to get into the room.

That had been a grave mistake, he realized too late, as confetti and glitter exploded from the inside, covering the three males. A crudely drawn banner spelling out "Happy Birthday Ace!" fell onto the floor, for the trio to admire. Two envelopes were in the bottom of the box, along with small trinkets and gifts. Deuce hurriedly closed the box, deciding enough damage had already been done, and glanced up at the other two men in the room.

Ace glared at the banner with an ashamed and embarrassed blush - not to mention the darkness that always rose whenever certain topics were brought up. From the way his fists were clenched, Deuce was sure he was thinking of running away again to avoid the incoming questions. The blue-haired man's throat dried at the broken look on Ace's face, and he wasn't sure if the flame-wielding Commander would *ever* forgive him. Meekly, he gazed at Marco, wondering what the Phoenix's next move would be…

He was silent as he observed the mess that had erupted in Ace's room, no doubt spying the blatantly colorful and haphazardly designed banner that tumbled from the box. Marco's blue eyes flicked to his newest brother and noticed his frozen state, before closing. Carefully, he maintained a calm exterior - because he couldn't afford to be anything else in this volatile situation. Quietly, he closed the partially opened door behind him, shook some confetti and glitter from his hair, and leaned against the wall, looking between Ace and Deuce. His lips twitched at the "hand caught in the cookie jar" look both wore (Deuce moreso than Ace), before clearing his throat. Honestly, he wasn't even sure how to respond in this situation. Ace was incredibly vulnerable right now, so anything he said could set the boy off and potentially put cracks in the delicate relationship they'd just started to build…

Perhaps, then, the best course of action was to let sleeping dogs lie. Ace might not have been on the ship long, but he was there long enough for Marco to learn his quirks. One of them? Ace was incredibly expressive without realizing it. Though he tried to hide his feelings behind a belligerent attitude, it was easy to tell what he really meant and felt. And the demeanor and countenance the flame wielding Commander held told Marco what he needed to know. Ace would tell them about the things that plagued him when he was ready, and forcing him right now would make things worse.

"... I won't tell." Marco simply replied, giving a nod to the two men. Then, he shook more glitter off and quietly left the room.

Though the silence in the room was still wildly uncomfortable, neither Ace nor Deuce did anything to break it. Faintly, the sounds of their crewmates teasing the glitter-and-confetti covered Marco could be heard, their laughter as wispy and echoing like ghosts. Deuce didn't dare move; he'd already caused enough damage today, and he wasn't sure what Ace's mood would be. For all he knew, he could never talk to the man again and simply cut him out of his life with one look. And yet, he couldn't bear to leave the vulnerable man alone - he *knew* what kinds of thoughts went through his head on this topic and he *knew* how it would affect him.

He couldn't take the darkness away from him, but at least he could ride it out with him.

"Deuce."

A chill ran down the former firstmate's spine at the heavy tone in Ace's voice. Anxiously, Deuce wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers, swallowing his nerves.

"Yeah, Ace?"

A pause. Ace's eyes were overshadowed by his hat, but his hands fiddled with the strings nervously. Bit by bit, Deuce's nerves faded as he stood in front of his Commander, once again silently promising himself that he'd be there when Ace needed him.

"Should I… Do you think they should know?"

Another pause.

"Do they deserve to know?"

Here, Ace looked up, a strained expression shadowing his face. This was the second-most deep-held secret that Ace had, and if it were up to him, he would take the secret to his grave. But Deuce's question was spot-on; did he think his newfound brothers deserve to know…?

"Do you trust them, Ace?" Deuce added, watching his brooding look change to a more thoughtful one.

"... Yeah, I do." He responded, a softer light entering his eyes.

Deuce sucked in a breath, feeling the relief wash over his body. Calmly, he took a few steps to the door, pausing to give Ace supportive smile and pat on his shoulder.

"Then, you know the right answer."

With that, Deuce left Ace to his next steps, shaking out the glitter from his jacket and deciding he deserved a long shower.

"So that's it, huh?" Whitebeard chuckled to himself, leaning back in his chair as Marco perched on his shoulder. The duo were watching the antics of the crew from above, while also discussing a new problem that arose. "Gurarara, he really is an interesting brat."

"I know I promised not to tell but I can't help but feel miffed, yoi," Marco pursed his lips in slight annoyance. "After all this time, he doesn't trust us to tell us about his birthday?"

Whitebeard only smiled warmly. He knew why his new son was so reluctant to share any personal info, and he didn't blame him for it. But, as a father, perhaps he could intervene and give the stubborn brat a little nudge in the right direction…

"Don't fret, Marco. Ace will open up when the time's right," the Emperor advised. "Just keep doing what you and your brothers have been doing. In fact…" He raised a hand as he beckoned the 4th Division Commander over to his chair. If anyone could get Ace where he needed, it would be him.

"Thatch, my child, I have a favor to ask you…"