AN: Here I am with another new story. This one is a mystery, and i hope to keep everyone a little surprised. I'm anticipating being able to upload every week, but I warn you that I am moving at the end of the month so there might be a week or so delay when switching over my internet to the new house. And so... I hope you guys enjoy!!!

Chapter 1

"Run, you've been found!" the hushed voice on the other end of the line urged.

The cell phone, that he wasn't supposed to have, snapped shut and was shoved into the pocket of his borrowed pants. An ear to the door told him that the officers guarding him outside were still occupied with their conversation and hadn't heard the soft vibrating that alerted him to the dreaded call. This was the third time that man had saved his life. Quickly, a window was opened and a well toned body slipped out onto the narrow ledge. Shimmying down the drainpipe would be nothing compared to what he had done last time to escape. Checking to see that the coast was clear, he took off into the night just as the front door flew in with enough force to embed an imprint of the door handle on the wall across from where it was hung.

Men sitting at a small table reached for their guns, but not fast enough for them to be of use. Single shots from a silenced pistol ended each of their lives before any of them could shout out a warning. Two more men came running from the back and were met with the same fate. When all of the undercover officers had been taken out, the shooter ambled over the dead bodies towards the locked door in the rear of the house.

"Shave and a haircut…" the man growled out in a light British accent, tapping the rhythm on the wall with the silencer as he closed in on the room. "Aww doesn't the rabbit want to play?"

The man grinned evilly as he turned the handle and slowly swung the door open. The room was dark, the lights having been turned off by the occupant. Surprised that there was no reaction to his arrival, the man quickly turned on the lights and began searching the room, cursing loudly when he came up empty. Just to be sure, he tore apart the closet, threw the bed upside down, and continued the destruction into the bathroom and second bedroom. The house was void of any other living person. A cell phone was pulled out and had the numbers punched furiously.

"It's Salom. He's gone… You think we're bloody stupid? Aye, we checked again. He must have slipped out the window when he heard the front door open." The man named Salom sifted through the papers lying on the table as he listened to the rant on the other end. "Grrrrrr… we know we need him. Just have your informant keep her ears open for where they stash him next. We'll meet up with Ryu and go from there"

Salom keyed off the phone and slipped it back in his jacket pocket, taking one last look for any information that might prove useful. Finding it all useless, he tossed it back over his shoulder and walked out. When he reached his car he pulled out a large gas can, returning quickly to the safe house. In minutes, the supposed safe house was engulfed in flames and the arsonist appeared to vanish into thin air.

oOoOoOo

Sandalwood Towers sat on the corner of 23rd and Washington Blvd. in the outskirts of Daleville. It was a quaint apartment complex filled with a wide variety of tenants. On the first floor there was a sweet old couple that took everyone below the age of 30 under their wing and insisted that they call them Granny and Papa. Next to them was the resident grouch who had to have been in her late eighties at least, but claimed to be only half that. The second floor had mostly young couples, and also the beautiful twin call-girls. The fourth and fifth floors were a mesh of everything from cab drivers to lounge singers. A few of them had kids, but for the most part the building was relatively quiet. However, it was the third floor that drew the most attention of all.

The middle floor was home to the college aged young adults and Ms Kokoro, who lived with her granddaughter Chimney. It was because of Ms Kokoro that the old lift had been repaired and the Laundromat in the basement updated. The old woman may be hard on the eyes, but she sure knew how to get something done when needed. Also on the third floor was the building's gorgeous heartthrob, Zoro. With his odd green hair and godly 6ft stature, women constantly tried to move in to the apartments next to him, thinking they just might get a chance. He was also the one they called on if there was a problem person or suspicious character bothering someone. His muscular build, coupled with his fearsome glare, was all it usually took to dissuade anyone from making a scene. If that failed, the man's skills at kendo and basic hand-to-hand combat were enough to send them packing. Who in his or her right mind would fuck with someone brandishing a sword and grinning evilly? Though Zoro couldn't have been past his early 20's, he commanded the respect of everyone living there, and even the building's owner. Well, almost everyone. Jigorou, the superintendant, living in the most lavish apartment on the first floor, hated his guts, blaming Zoro for every failed attempt to get the female tenants to go out with him.

Ms Kokoro adopted Zoro as her surrogate nephew and was constantly inviting him over to drink. It took her almost a year of patience and pestering to get him to understand she would not give up on getting him to be civil to someone. He had lived in the building for three years now, and she was the only one he ever spoke to kindly on a regular basis, ignoring even the voluptuous twins who lived just below him. Even though he could be counted on to help out when the going was tough, Zoro Roronoa was a very private and reclusive person. More than likely it was due to his scarred past.

When Zoro's parents died in a plane crash four years ago, he had been devastated. Everything about him changed, including his looks. He let his hair grow long, wore a goatee, and gained three piercings in his left ear; one for each person he had lost too soon in life. Zoro even took to the underground and began competing in illegal matches, nearly killing each of his opponents. It took two years and the help of several friends to pull him from the arena, assuring him there was a reason to live for, before he finally stopped the insane battles. The then college drop-out began his search for that reason they spoke so highly of, and to this day had yet to find it. Now instead of fighting, he taught in a local dojo and assisted a family friend with some questionable investigative tactics for the police department. Occasionally, Zoro would still go down to the cages, but no longer on a regular basis. It had been over two months since his last visit. Zoro was still undefeated, and he only came out for the big dogs, scoffing at the small-fries that liked to talk so much shit he had to watch where he stepped.

Zoro had to laugh when one night he came home from a fight and walked right into Ms Kokoro on her way back from the laundry. It took him an hour to convince her he had not been mugged and everything was all right. The next day he had all kinds of gifts on his doorstep from several people on all floors. He chuckled at some of them, a can of mace, and others immediately went into the trash, like the certificate for a free lap dance from twins Mozu and Kiwi. How he was so highly thought of when he had never even spoken to most of these people was beyond him. Throwing out a deviant or two couldn't mean that much to them. Ok, so maybe it had been a street gang or two, but it was really all the same in Zoro's mind. Still, the fighter decided that from now on, he should crash elsewhere and clean up after a bloody match.

This particular evening, Zoro sat at a card table in the back of an auto chop shop trying his best to not win much more than necessary. Soon, he would need to wind this up and get down to business. Fortunately, he had four lovely queens, and felt confident on throwing his entire stack into the pot.

"All-in boys." Zoro fidgeted with his cards in fake nervousness.

Greedy leers came at him from round the table, glancing over to the sizable pot, ripe for the taking. Four pairs of eyes sent silent signals to each other and they folded. The last man to call was the supposed leader of the group. He eyed Zoro for a long moment before taking the cigar out of his mouth and speaking in a nasally Brooklyn accent.

"So, you're willing to bet your last dime here, huh faggot?"

The snake had continued to call Zoro a fag because of his long hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, and the fact that he kept refusing the women that were offered to him. Zoro was getting fed up with it and had to fight the strong desire to stand up and pummel the greasy looking asshole into the ground. Sadly if he did that, the detective sitting outside waiting to make the arrest would be severely pissed and make his life hell. Grinding his teeth together to keep from saying the wrong thing, Zoro simply nodded his head. His actions made him seem unsure and it gave the desired effect.

"I don't have that much here with me, but maybe we could come to an agreement if you win. What do you say?" The gangster gave him a suggestive wink and put the stogie back between his pale lips.

"I doubt you have anything I'd be interested in." Zoro's hands shook slightly from anger, but played it off as nerves.

Laughing it off, the guy pulled out a bag of white powder and placed it on top of the money. It was likely to weigh several ounces, if Zoro was right. The unofficial nark tentatively reached out to pick up the bag, slowly palming the drugs and planning his next move. Zoro poked a small hole in the pouch and used his pinky to taste the contents.

"Good shit. Where'd it come from?" Zoro sat the bag back on the table and picked up his cards again.

"I've got this supplier overseas that takes care of me. So, you willing to accept the trade?"

"Yah, show me what you got." Zoro smirked with unabashed confidence.

The thug laid down his full house, kings over aces and smirked as the smile left Zoro's face. "I'm so sorry, but I think I'll be taking my money now," he said sweetly.

Zoro simply placed the cards in a stack and slowly spread them to reveal the winning hand. "I think not," he taunted.

Guns were pulled and aimed at Zoro's head as the green-haired man collected his money and drugs. He didn't blink as the pistols were cocked and brought closer to his face. Zoro raised a single eyebrow in question, and continued to stuff the bills into his pockets, leaving the bag of cocaine to last.

"I do believe you placed this willingly on the table. And as I remember, you made me leave my weapon at the door. It seems a little unfair that your boys didn't have to do the same." Zoro tossed the baggie lightly in the air a few times before pocketing it as well. "So, same time next week?"

The greasy leader threw his head back and laughed; a signal for everyone to lower their weapons. When he collected himself, he stood and walked around to place his arm over Zoro's shoulders. Zoro ground his teeth together again to keep from lashing out at the way too intimate gesture. They started walking to the bay doors where Zoro collected his Desert Eagle, tension still thick in the air around the henchmen.

"I like you, man. Not what I expected at all. Make sure you bring that luck back with you, too. You're gonna need it. Oh, and if you need more," he gestured to the pocket holding the drugs and winked, "just let me know. I'll treat you real good."

Zoro grunted in response and walked out to his car. The second he rounded the corner, he pulled up alongside a black Yukon and handed over the white powder and pistol. Detective Smoker nodded in thanks and radioed in the signal to move on the target. Zoro grinned as he thought about the several thousands of dollars he had been able to pocket in winnings.

That was probably the only perk to this job. He had to hand over the illegal items, but the cash he was usually able to keep. The one exception was the time he was carrying over half a million dollars. Smoker had made him give that back. Fucking bastard. Working with the police wasn't exactly what he had in mind when his father's friend had approached him last year, but times were tough and he needed the money. The thrill of the fight was an added bonus. Often he had the chance to wail on a few of the more violent criminals a little before he had to leave, and that always put a smile on the green-haired man's face. Too bad he couldn't have released a bit of that frustration on the men tonight.

Zoro drove home in his old GTO and pulled into the parking space marked 3C. It might not be impressive on the outside, but it was his. Covering a large yawn, he got out of the car and locked the doors. He could see the light on in the corner apartment on the third floor, showing that his adoptive aunt had been waiting up for him. That woman would never learn. Zoro shook his head, knowing that she would probably scold him good the next time she saw him. He began to wonder when she had become such an important person in his life.

Taking the lift to his floor, Zoro trudged to his spacious two bedroom apartment and unlocked the door. He entered the large living area and turned on the lights, frowning when yet another blub flashed and blacked out. A heavy sigh escaped him as he began to trudge through the debris of his wrecked life. Making his way over to the large double window, he leaned against one of the wooden bookcases flanking it and stared out at the park across the street. The only people out at this hour were of questionable nature and Zoro took the time to study a few of them as they tried to pass inconspicuously through the streetlights. Turning back around he studied the room, wondering just when everything had gone so bad. A tightening in his chest reminded him immediately when the change had taken place. The day his parents were taken from him.

Zoro tripped over a pile of books that had never been replace on the shelves; titles ranging from Advanced Physics to a diagnostic book for 1976-1982 Chevy trucks. He picked them up and shoved aside one of the random trophies to put the reading material somewhat in place. Zoro scowled at the gold colored man holding a sword, remembering how happy he had been when the officials had presented it to him. Now it was just served as a bookend, something to collect dust, having lost all meaning.

His eyes drifted over to the only clean spot in the room, the area surrounding his Bow Flex. Normally, Zoro would take out his frustrations with a vigorous workout, but not even that appealed to his disheartened mood. Fatigue tugged at his body, and a half hearted laugh escaped his lips when Zoro realized that he didn't even have a place to sit down anymore. The couch was buried under dirty clothes, old newspapers and unopened mail, and the matching side chair was currently home to an array of boxes containing old car parts that needed to be returned to the shop. Not even his dining area was usable anymore.

Old takeout boxes littered the dining table and most of the kitchen counters, revealing his lack of cooking skills as well as his lack of a social life. Lonely dinners were a common thing for him, only having a few select people that would ever put up with his nearly insatiable appetite and lack of table etiquette. A sink full of dirty dishes did show that he had eaten a cooked meal at one point, but there was no way to tell just how long it had been since that had happened. Zoro thought hard for a moment before shaking his head; he had no idea the last time he had attempted to make anything himself. It was a shame too; the kitchen was actually well designed, fitted for even the most enthusiastic chef to work in.

The flashing light on his answering machine caught his eye and Zoro walked over to the island bar separating the kitchen from the living room. Pressing the button, he waited inevitably to hear the bitching voice of his loan shark demanding something or another from him. A strange sense of disappointment set in when the woman's voice was unfamiliar, and her only desire was to sell him a subscription to… Zoro pressed the delete button as he went to the fridge.

That was odd. He didn't remember having anything green to eat in a long time. Zoro started to open the Tupperware container and realized that he actually couldn't even remember the last time he went grocery shopping. He wrinkled his nose and tossed the questionable item back in, looking for something that would help quench his hunger but finding nothing. Expired milk, molded leftovers, rotten vegetables, a partial bottle of soda, and beer; just like everything else in his life: pointless.

Zoro threw his keys on the kitchen bar by the phone along with the money from his pocket and decided that maybe it would be best to just call it a night. Stretching his arms high above his head, he yawned loudly before shedding his shirt as he walked to the bathroom to take a shower. Koushirou, his sensei, had set up some self defense class at a local woman's shelter for him to teach relatively early the next day. It wasn't his idea of fun, but it helped clear his conscious and pay the bills. Well, of course with the money he had just collected on this last job, he wouldn't really need to work for at least a few weeks. Just last month he had finally paid back all of the money he had borrowed from his friends when things had been so bad for him. Now anything he earned was to stay in his own pocket, and not be given to a money grubbing, demon eyed, redheaded witch who had a possessed calculator that couldn't add interest up right.

Bright lights lit up the large earth toned room, and Zoro kicked aside the dirty towels on the floor as he entered the bathroom. The level of filth was much less in here than the front room, though he had an idea that was due to the fact that he didn't spend as much time in here as the rest of his place. He at least would wipe off the counter after brushing his teeth in the mornings, though blue water in the commode was probably the only thing that saved the porcelain throne. Zoro looked over to the whirlpool and debated if he wanted to soak or just take a shower. Judging from the layer of dust in the tub, a shower it was.

Reaching into the double sized shower, Zoro turned on the hot water, thanking the building designer again and again for putting in two showerheads, one on each side, and watched as the steam began to fill the room. He kicked off his boots and jeans, taking a moment to toss the boots down the hall towards the front door. His reflection in the mirror took him off guard and Zoro stood there studying himself for a moment. Little scars littered his arms and legs, though everything paled in comparison to his torso. Large calloused fingers traced down the diagonal scar across his chest and stomach as he thought back to that night so many years ago. The fighter had eluded him as of yet, but it just meant that Zoro had more time to train and prepare for their next match. It was for that reason alone he didn't quit the cages completely.

Stepping into the shower, Zoro ran a hand over his face and wrinkled his nose at the smell of cheap cigars still clinging to his skin. The night's events played over again in his mind as he washed away the feel of that asshole's arm around his shoulders. Zoro's jaw ached from the pressure of grinding his teeth, popping as the sleepy man failed to contain another yawn. Finally satisfied that he only smelled of soap now, the water was turned off and Zoro grabbed a towel to dry his hair and a little of his body.

The locked door on his right was ignored as he continued to the master bedroom, dreading the sight of the mess he knew would greet him. Flicking on the light, Zoro tried to ignore the copious amounts of clothes and shoes that littered the room. The mirrored closet doors on the right were closed for some reason, making the magnitude of the disaster seem to double. His double Papasan chair with a dark red cushion had been knocked over at some point by the window and the strange fan shaped floor lamp behind it seemed to be leaning a bit more than usual. It probably happened when he came home drunk a few nights ago. The king size bed was a mess of black sheets, red blankets and white pillows, the only welcoming sight he had seen all night. Almost the instant his still damp head hit the pillow, Zoro was asleep.

0o0o0o0o0

Zoro cringed when he saw the frail, broken women that made up his self defense class. They cowed behind each other, hiding their black eyes and busted mouths. Most of them were probably scared to just be in the room with him, and one had even broke down and began crying. Didn't his sensei realize that sending a scowling, aggressive man with a muscular build into a room full of females that had been abused was the worst idea ever? These women needed a kind young girl with a good right hook. He idly wondered if Robin was busy. Too late now.

"Good afternoon ladies. I will be your aggression target today." Time to practice that charm technique Ace was always raving about.

By the end of the class, almost every one of them had hit him in at least one of the four spots he focused on: solar plexus, instep, nose and groin. Fortunately, he blocked all but one blow to his face, saving him from too much embarrassment on the off chance that they managed to bloody his nose. The one woman who had landed a hit to him broke down and began crying as soon as she realized what she had done. It took him half an hour after he had dismissed the others to calm her down enough so she could drive. When everyone was finally gone, Zoro sat down gingerly on the bench in the locker room wondering how in the world he would have survived today if he had forgotten to wear a cup. Some of those women had a hell of a swing on them.

Zoro stood in the shower letting the hot water work loosen some of the muscles in his shoulders. Closing his eyes, he remembered the times that his mother would rub that foul smelling oil into his back after one of his tournaments. He both hated and loved those times. Concentrating hard enough, he swore he could still imagine the scent. A shiver ran down Zoro's spine and he hurried to finish cleaning up.

Outside, the weather had just started to brighten, signifying that spring was definitely on its way. The grey skies seemed a shade bluer and the snow had all but melted from the ground. Still, it was cold as fuck and Zoro grumbled as he pulled his jacket closer, leaning into the wind as it threatened to knock him down. He shoved the keys into the lock on his car door, and hurried inside. One nice thing about this antique beast was the powerful heater that didn't take long to warm up. In less than five minutes Zoro was nice and toasty, nodding along with the beat of the music blaring from the stereo as he drove to his favorite diner.

The restaurant itself was pretty run-down looking. The sign was missing more than a few bulbs, the lines on the parking lot had disappeared years ago, the paint on the building was chipping and that was just the outside. Inside, the table and countertops had deep wear marks in them, seats had been repaired with appropriate colored duct tape, the dishes were mismatched, and the TV in the back still received signal through an old rabbit-ear antenna. However, the place was always clean, the food superb, and the conversation just the way Zoro liked it; nonexistent. This didn't mean that the waitresses didn't talk; they just didn't talk to him.

Chatter could be heard all over as Zoro made his way to his favorite booth. He didn't even need to look at the menu to know what he wanted. It was Tuesday, so that meant that Ricky was working the kitchen. Sandy, a very rough looking waitress, came over with a frosted mug and set it down on the table with a bottle of beer. She turned around and headed for the back, not even bothering to ask him for his order. Maybe that was a sign that he came here way too much. Less than ten minutes later, a steaming plate of food was set down in front of him. Rick must have seen him walk in. Zoro inhaled the distinct flavors of liver and onions with home-fries, sighing happily as he unwrapped his knife and fork from the paper napkin. The second the first bite hit his tongue, a familiar figure sat down in the seat across from him. Cigar smoke wafted over the table and Zoro nodded in wordless greeting.

"Good work last night," Smoker said while signaling the waitress over to take his order. "Just one problem."

Zoro waited until Sandy had left again before responding. "Let me guess… they made bail and now you can't find them."

The increased scowl on the officer's face was all the answer Zoro needed. They continued to eat in silence, one of the few reasons that Zoro tolerated the older man. It wasn't until after both of their plates were cleared that Smoker spoke again.

"We've been having problems with our informants disappearing on us. Some of them have turned up dead, but a lot of them we just can't find. I'm going to have to take you off any cases for a while until we get this figured out."

"What? That's bullshit! You know I need this money." Zoro slammed his hand on the table and half stood, looming over at his part-time employer.

"Look, kid, my hands are tied." Smoker glowered at him for a moment before he held his hands up in defeat and gave Zoro as an apologetic of a look as he could muster.

"Fuck… Still, you can't shut me out completely." Zoro lowered himself to his seat and rubbed his temples to rid the beginnings of a major headache. Now that his bills were paid, he had hoped to start saving some money up to get out of the city. He really didn't have a plan yet as to where he would go, Zoro just knew that the time had come for a change. "Besides, no one knows that I do this for you anyway. They think you're just checking up on me since you and my old man were good friends."

"True and I want to keep it that way, but if I'm the only one who can still get information from the streets, they're going to start looking into things." Smoker pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket and scowled when he couldn't find his lighter. Sandy magically appeared with an ashtray and a pack of matches, giving him a suggestive wink before walking off. "Unless someone can figure out why we're losing our witnesses and informants, there's nothing I can do."

"Then get me something on that and I'll see what I can come up with. Maybe I can play a little down at the arena and see if anyone needs an assassin for hire. I've come close enough to killing several of those guys that it should be convincing."

"No." Smoker's voice was strong and firm, causing a few of the closer patrons to look over to the table uneasily. "This is an internal matter, and we'll handle it accordingly. If you see that so called friend of yours, tell him to keep his nose out of it as well."

"Ace does what he wants. I can't stop him any more than you can stop me," Zoro challenged.

"I'm serious brat. If you want to ever have the chance to get in on another job, you'll stay the fuck away from the case."

Zoro glared angrily at the larger man, debating on how much truth there was to the threat. A small tic began to start in Smoker's eye, assuring Zoro that he would indeed follow through. Looking away, Zoro conceded defeat, or so it seemed. He stood up from his seat next to the kitchen doors and slipped inside. Seconds later, a man's jovial laughter rang out along with a woman's cursing, and Zoro returned with two more beers, grumbling. "Well they shouldn't have been making out at work anyway."

Zoro spent the next hour covertly coaxing out any details that Smoker had, and trying to work out a plausible game plan. So far, all of the attackers had been gunmen, but that didn't mean that a blade would be rejected; he just needed to present himself correctly. If he put himself out there as a reckless man with a hidden vendetta that just might do the trick. In two nights, Zoro would head down to his old playground and see what fresh meat there was to tear apart, despite Smoker's threat. Losing good men was never to be overlooked, and something about the case just didn't sit right with him.

oOoOoOo

It was relatively early when Zoro returned to the apartment. He shuffled his tired ass into the lift, pressed the button for the third floor and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. The doors opened and Zoro forced his feet to move out into the hallway towards his place. The instant his body cleared the threshold he was almost run over by a vicious group of small children. Amidst the throng was a grinning blonde with Pippi Longstocking pigtails. The other children cowered in his shadow, some with blatant fear while a few of the boys gaped openly.

"Hi, Zoro! You're home early. Will you come play with us today? We're going on an adventure to rescue the beautiful mermaid from the evil bad man. You can be the ogre guarding the bridge to the underwater kingdom!" Chimney hugged her doll tightly to her chest and swayed from side to side as she talked excitedly about their game.

Zoro's brow furrowed as he realized that he was being set up to be the ugly monster. Annoyed that even innocent children thought of him as something vile and disgusting, Zoro shook his head no and began to walk off without a word.

"Please, Zoro! You're the only one big enough and with a deep voice." Tears filled her eyes as she tugged on his pants leg.

"Why would he want to play with a bunch of brats like you?" came the grating voice of the resident Super. The tall man's skin was a sickening grey color, and he was missing random teeth. His too tight yellow t-shirt stretched across his chest, sporting the words 'YOUR SONG'. Though he had gone bald on top, he still wore his black hair long, hanging down past his shoulders. "How about I be the ogre and the lift is the bridge. If you want to go anywhere you'll have to get through me."

The kids screamed and took the cue from Chimney to hide behind Zoro. Chimney peaked around Zoro's thigh and stuck out her tongue at the zombie looking man. "You can't be the ogre. Our ogre is supposed to be good. He guards the gate to keep the bad guys like you out!"

A chorus of "yah's" echoed her denial of letting him play. Zoro mentally slapped himself for thinking that the kids wanted to put him in a negative position. He should have known better. Now, with his ego repaired, Zoro decided to take action and thwart the evil villain.

"Is there something you needed, Jigorou?" Zoro made sure to put a slight edge to his tone, not enough to frighten the children, but enough to relay his anger to the jackass in front of him.

Jigorou sneered at the children a moment before replying. "I was just headed to the old bat's place to serve her final notice."

Zoro tried to not let the shock show on his face as he realized that the only one Jigorou could be referring to was Kokoro. Why would she be late with the payment? She was on a fixed income that never changed, just like the amount of her rent. Something was up and Zoro intended to find out what it was, but for now, Zoro reached into his pocket and pulled out a large roll of cash. "Here, nine hundred, right?"

Jigorou's eyes widened at the sight of the large bills. He nodded faintly as he followed every movement Zoro made, almost letting a whimper escape when the remaining money was returned to Zoro's pocket.

"I'll have a receipt brought up to you," the Super mumbled, recounting the payment as he walked away.

As soon as the lift doors closed behind the creepy man, the children began jumping up and down, shouting with joy. One of the boys, who stood taller than the rest, happily pointed out that the tall man was the perfect person to be their ogre since he had just defeated the first monster. Chimney beamed with pride as she snuggled up to a reluctant hero. A few of the residents had cracked open their doors when they heard the kids scream earlier, but stayed out of it seeing that Zoro was already on site. Now, they stood leaning against the open frames, grinning at Zoro's plight. The children were ignorant of his discomfort, taking turns hugging him and tugging at his clinched fists to try and get him to follow them.

"Come on Zoro, now you have to play," pleaded Chimney.

"I-I- um… Shit. Look guys, I can't. I have… I really need… This isn't my thing, you know. I just… Damn it! One of you help me out here!!" Zoro called out to the adult audience. Normally his heated stare would be enough to silence anyone, but the hilarity of the situation was just too much and they could do nothing but chuckle and snicker. "Yah, yah, laugh it up, assholes."

The angel of mercy finally took pity on the young man in the form of Ms. Kokoro. She emerged from her apartment looking slightly disheveled and very tired. She quickly hid whatever was in her hand in the pocket of her sweater as she walked out into the hall. "Ok, kids, that's enough. I believe that Mr. Roronoa has other things to do this evening."

Groans of disappointment came from them all and the onlookers shut their doors one by one. Zoro's aunt shooed all the children back to their own homes and laughed heartily as Zoro pulled Chimney along while the little girl clung to his leg.

"Have you eaten yet?" At Zoro's affirmative nod, she sighed heavily. "Good. You need to make sure you take care of yourself. I can't always do it for you."

Zoro followed her into the living room and shut the door behind them. He pried the parasite from his leg and tossed her gently onto the couch, wincing at her shrill squeals of laughter. His jacket was shrugged off and hung on the empty peg by the door. He rolled his eyes when he noticed that his name had been marked above it in sloppy, childish handwriting. Kokoro emerged from the kitchen with a tall glass of something for herself and a bottle of aged sake for her guest. The evening passed pleasantly as they watched John Wayne stroll across the screen. Zoro did his best to take up as much room as he could in the overstuffed chair, but somehow Chimney found a way to crawl up there with him anyway. As soon as she was asleep, Kokoro went to lift her up and carry the little sprite to bed. A pained look crossed her face and Zoro stopped her.

"I'll put the munchkin to bed, you go sit back down," Zoro offered and watched her closely as she slowly complied. As soon as Chimney was tucked in, he headed back to get some answers.

"I know what you're going to ask, the truth is that this winter wasn't very kind to either of us. Both Chimney and I had a bout of the flu, and if you remember, I spent over a week in the hospital with pneumonia. The bills just kept piling up. I'm sorry you had to find out that way."

"It's not a problem. Why didn't you come to me sooner?" Zoro eyed her critically. "I could have helped you before this all got out of hand."

"And how long did it take you to ask your friends for help before?" she shook her head when he looked away guiltily. "I might be old, but I still have pride. It's just as hard for me to ask as it was for you. I hope you know that I have every intention of paying you back."

"You've done more than enough for me, Auntie. I was happy to be able to do it. Besides, my debts are paid and the money was just burning a hole in my pocket as it was." He gave her a cocky grin and she threw a pillow at his green head. Their laughter eased the tension in the air and Zoro reached out for the deck of cards on the side table. "You up for a few hands before bed, or do you need to get some rest, too?"

"Here, give me that," she snatched the worn deck from his hands and began to shuffle. "The game's Canasta, two needed to go out and one must be natural. Play to 5000?"

"Don't we always?" Zoro bent down to untie his boots, knowing he'd be here for a while.

oOoOoOo

The next day, Smoker sat at his computer, cussing it for what felt like the millionth time. The damn thing seemed to have caught a virus, yet again. Smoker thought that the whole point in getting a new network installed was to prevent things like this from happening. So far, their server had gone down twice this week and a total of six times in the last month. This didn't seem very productive as far as he was concerned, but then again what did he know about all this internet bullshit.

Pressing random keys wasn't helping either the computer or his mood, so Smoker decided to abandon his desk for the time being and brave a cup of coffee from the break room. The black sludge was questionable in origin and age, hence why most avoided the toxic drink; but it would at least give him something to pass the time. Smoker found several of the others lounging around on the worn out furniture, all discussing the technical issues at hand.

"Hina is very angry with all of this."

Smoker bit his tongue to keep from telling the woman how insane it was to refer to herself in third person like that. For as intelligent and proficient as she was, her speech habits drove him crazy, just as they had for the last twenty years.

"I agree, my lovely Hina. Something definitely needs to be done." One of the new recruits, Fullbody, had taken an immediate liking to the beautiful senior detective and followed her around like a lost puppy. He and his counterpart Jango were always tripping over their feet to make asses of themselves in her presence.

"Hina wants to know what Smoker thinks." Hina eyed said man critically as he washed his coffee mug.

"The same thing I always think, that you need to grow up and quit talking like a three year old," he said half under his breath, knowing that she would hear anyway.

"Show some respect, Detective. Just because you're the senior man here doesn't give you any right to speak to her in that tone of voice." Jango stepped up next to Fullbody, puffing his chest in order to make himself look more intimidating and failing miserably.

"Watch yourself, Smoker, or Hina might just let the cat out of the bag." The strawberry-blonde smirked at her old friend, very much used to his mumbling about her preferred way of talking. If the others in the office knew the stoic man like she did, this computer fiasco would be on the bottom of the list of topics they discussed in the break room.

Smoker grunted in reply but joined her on the couch. It had been rumored for a while that they were a couple, but it was quickly squelched by Garp who issued a no inner office dating policy; one that Smoker was pretty sure had already been in place. Hina took Smoker's coffee from his hands and made a horrible face at the bitter taste, frowning further when he started chuckling. The officers continued to discuss the system failures for a while before moving on to other topics.

"I've lost three men so far."

"One for me."

"Hina lost three as well."

"Two, one unconfirmed," Smoker added, checking his phone again to see if he had missed a call. The men he had assigned to his last witness had missed their check in time, almost an hour ago. If they didn't call soon, he would have to break protocol and drive out there himself.

"Excuse me," a somewhat nervous voice called out from the doorway. Everyone turned to see the small dark haired woman carrying a stack of folders, her glasses perched precariously on her head. "Detective Smoker, there's a call for you at your desk. When you're done there's still that paperwork that you have yet to sign and file, and also the…"

"Yah, yah, I'll get to it." Smoker cut her off with a wave as he stood up. Everyone received a nasty scowl when they began giggling. "Let's go, Tashigi."

The second the door closed behind him, the room burst into laughter.