Rotten

Ichigo and Toshiro stood side by side, shoulders brushing lightly, gazing down into the peacefully sleeping face of their daughter. Mikan's tiny, cherubic face scrunched itself up into a concerted frown, tiny wrinkles running across her porcelain skin before smoothing out once more and relaxing into easy sleep, her infant fingers opening and closing over the soft blanket tucked around her.

"She reminds me of you when you're sleeping," Ichigo commented softly, reaching down and stroking her little check with a finger the length of her arm.

"Oh?" his spouse inquired, equally quiet, one pale eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"She's so quiet and still," Ichigo explained, "but not like she's waiting for anything. Just peaceful. Relaxed."

"Ah," Toshiro replied, stretching his hand out to caress his daughter's two-tone hair. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense."

Mikan stretched beneath their hands, yawning as widely as her small mouth would allow, before blinking blearily up at her fathers, her stunning teal eyes, still clouded with sleep, searching curiously for their familiar shapes.

"Hey, gorgeous," Ichigo greeted her, a smile tugging relentlessly at the corners of his mouth, the same dopey grin he knew came onto his face whenever he saw her. "Have a nice nap?"

He reached both hands down to pick her up just as the door to their home burst open as though propelled by a kick.

"How could you?" The intruder bellowed, straddling the doorframe with an action-ready pose as familiar to Ichigo as the store-front of his family's clinic.

"Dad?" he asked, stupefied. Beside him Toshiro reared back in surprise, but removed his hand from Hyorinmaru's hilt.

"Of course it's me," his father answered, stepping fully into their home and approaching the pair, looking them up and down. "Where else would I be after discovering that my only son has finally given me a grandbaby?"

Ichigo started, then cringed slightly guiltily as Toshiro examined him incredulously.

"You didn't tell you father we had a child?" his spouse asked, astounded.

"Yeah," Ichigo demurred, "Well, we had so much going on. I was going to, but-"

"No buts!" Isshin Kurosaki declared. He strode over, looking entirely as though he were about to give Ichigo the talking to of his life, before he caught sight of the little girl lying wide awake, but utterly still behind them. Stepping past his son entirely, he scooped her up in on easy motion, cradling her to his chest and rocking her to and fro.

"Oh, who is going to be grandpa's little princess? Who is the most beautiful little girl in the world?" he all but crooned, sweeping little Mikan all around the room.

Her father's watched his antics, Ichigo with alarm and continued shell-shock, Toshiro with veiled amusement.

"You know," the white haired captain said to his spouse, "he's going to spoil her rotten."

This was written by my dear friend Ink on Ice, because I've gotten her addicted to the pairing. Huzzah for being an evil, yet modestly convincing bitch.