The first time Penguin sees him, it’s in the auction house at Sabaody, standing on the opposite side of the room. He’s hard to miss; tall and imposing, a mess of blond hair and a LOUD polka dot shirt.
He leans over to Shachi. “Does this boiler suit make me look cool?”
Shachi smacks him upside the head. “No,” he says. “Stop making eyes at the enemy.”
“He can’t even SEE my eyes,” Penguin sulks.
The second time Penguin sees him, it’s in Wano. And it’s, like, a whole thing. There’s a lot going on, and Penguin’s a bit BUSY, honestly, he’s got some other things to deal with.
But he notices that the guy’s, like, seriously bulked up. It would be hard not to notice, really.
Penguin flexes his own muscles. He can’t see much of any change. Especially under the boiler suit.
Shachi squints at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks.
Penguin smacks him. “Shut up,” he says. “And give me those binoculars back.”
The THIRD time Penguin sees him, things are a bit different.
And by a bit different, he means “SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT WHERE DID BEPO GO? SHACHI— FUCK WHERE IS SHACHI—“
It’s HOT on this island, boiler suit stripped down and tied around his waist and Penguin is still sweating buckets as he runs down alleys and side streets with the sun beating down on his back. There’s only about twelve people running behind him, yelling angry-sounding things that Penguin doesn’t bother deciphering because WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYONE?
The bundle in his arms isn’t helping the heat stroke quickly approaching either. He’s gonna need Law to give him a rehydrating IV or something after this and then he’s going to be in trouble for wasting resources.
Racing around a corner leads him to a crowded market street — a good sign, maybe he can get lost between the stalls. Or maybe not— the angry mob behind him seems to be gaining and they’re yelling honestly very rude things. WHERE the FUCK are his CREW—
That’s when he sees him. HOW they ended up on the same island is a mystery, but—
“Hey! Oi!” Penguin yells, making a beeline straight for him.
Killer, of the Kid pirates, is at a stall perusing mangos. He looks up, blue and white stripes zeroing in on Penguin. GOD the guy has some wide shoulders.
“Yeah, you!!” Penguin yells. “Offense or Defence??”
“Uhhhhhhh,” Killer says, tilting his head. Very calm for a guy who MUST see the mob behind Penguin. “Depends on the game.”
“Now!!” Penguin shouts, getting within throwing distance. He can practically SEE the question marks popping above Killer’s head.
“…Defense?”
“Then CATCH”
Penguin throws the bundle at him and turns on a heel, skidding into place mere feet in front of Killer and facing down the approaching mob. He sticks his hands deep into the pockets of the boiler suit and draws out two brass knuckles, because god these outfits are NOT good for hiding larger weapons in.
“Uhhhhh,” says Killer behind him, voice echoey under the helmet. “Maybe I should be offence, actually.”
“TOO LATE,” Penguin yells, charging toward the mob that has been quickly thrown into confusion now that their target has turned around.
Honestly, there’s not even any burning pitchforks or anything. It’s just a dozen or so citizens with sticks up their asses (and in their hands), and Penguin, well, he’s had to fight Clione for the last ice cream bar.
He comes away with one nasty scrape to the cheek and a bunch of blood splatters on his outfit that Law will enjoy testing for STDs. When he finally shoves the brass knuckles back in his pockets, he turns around to find Killer still standing in front of the mango stall (although the seller has long since run for it)
And the bundle squirming around in his hands.
“You good?” Killer asks.
“Are you holding her upside down?” Penguin asks.
Killer looks down at the bundle in his arms. He flips it over, and the squirming stops. A head pops out. A small child with an unnervingly large mouth full of triangular teeth, and a head of shockingly blond hair in two messy tails, is looking bright eyed at Penguin.
Penguin gives the small child a thumbs up.
She giggles, showing off her many unnerving teeth. There’s a second set behind the first.
“So,” says Killer, conversationally. “She yours?”
“Oh god no,” Penguin says. “Found her chowing down on some offering to a local god and the townspeople were getting all angry at her.” He walks over, picking up a mango and holding it up to her. She neatly bites through half.
“Cool,” says Killer.
“You got parents, kid?” Penguin asks.
The small child shakes her head, mango juice dripping from her mouth.
Penguin frowns. “Family?”
The small child shakes her head again. She doesn’t seem sad. She probably didn’t know them.
“Aww,” says Killer. Penguin looks up at him. He’s oddly expressive for a man in a helmet.
A chill runs up his spine, though, and he turns away, recognizing the feeling of conquerors haki. Sure enough, the captain of the Kid pirates is walking through the center of the now deserted market street.
“Killer!” He yells, stalking over to them and ignoring Penguin entirely. That’s fair. Penguin likes it that way. “What’d you fucking do??”
Killer tilts his head. With both hands he holds up the fishchild. “Got a baby,” he says brightly.
Kid blinks at the child. “What the fuck,” he says.
Killer lowers the child and then points with one hand at Penguin. “His baby,” he says.
“Well,” Penguin hedges.
“What the fuck,” says Kid.
“I’m keeping it,” says Killer.
“Her,” says Penguin.
“That makes you a grandpa,” says Killer.
“FUCK no it doesn’t,” shouts Kid.
The child laughs.
“You can’t have a BABY with the ENEMY,” Kid yells.
“Well,” says Penguin.
“You can’t tell me what to do, Mom.”
“Fuck you,” spits Kid.
“She has her father’s eyes,” says Killer.
Penguin’s not sure which of them is supposed to be the father.
“My hair, though.”
Ah, Penguin is the father.
“We’ll have to work out custody agreements,” Killer continues.
“I’d like a date first,” Penguin says
Honestly it’s fitting that that’s the first full sentence he gets out, somehow.
“You can’t date my second in command!” Kid yells.
“I mean, we have a kid together,” Killer points out. “You’re a bit late.”
Penguin is halfway to a genius response of some kind when he sees blue light wash over them. It’s all he can do to mime “call me” at Killer before he’s shambled back to the ship.
“You’re late,” Law tells him.
“I’m an unwed mother now I think,” Penguin says.
Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know.
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