Author's Note: This is originally from my old account, and was written for Father's Day 2009. This is the updated version. Cannot say I'm happy with it, but it was mostly self-indulgent fluff back in the day anyway.

Noticeable Changes: Deidara was aged up to 6, removal of Danna and some tweaks and expansions on some parts along with new content.
Disclaimer: I own this story, but the characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

Cross-posted to tumblr, Ao3 and dA. Do not repost anywhere else.

Sasori had not seen Deidara since breakfast that morning- the child having been holed up in his room since then. It was unusual for the normally energetic boy that hated to be inside on such bright, beautiful days.

Stopping outside of Deidara's door, it was, of course, shut and the only noises he could pick up on were the faint sounds of something scribbling on paper. "You alive in there?" Sasori questioned flatly while crossing his arms, keeping his small curiosity to himself over what the kid could have been up to.

"Fine! I'll see you later, un!" Deidara replied in a hurried tone, not wanting Sasori to see his work before it was finished. The surprise would be ruined otherwise, and the hard work for nothing.

Much to the young boys relief, Sasori only raised an eyebrow at the reply and left to go finish a half-completed puppet in his workshop down in the basement.

Opening the door to the basement, he flicked on the light, having moved the switch to the top of the stairs some years ago after buying the house. It had been at the bottom previously and was in a rather odd place in his opinion.

Only a couple of steps down, he had to remind himself to not lock the door in case the brat needed something. Not long after he had taken Deidara in, he re-did the doors locks, knowing the boy well enough to not put it past him to get locked in his workshop. The red head was certain he had saved himself a lot of trouble already doing that.

Sitting down, he picked up his tools and set to work as if he had never left.

Meanwhile, upstairs the boy had made use of a word his teenaged friend had taught him behind Sasori's back. He had said it once in front of the older man and gotten in trouble for it, so he saved using for when Sasori was not around to hear it.

Deidara was heavily focused on his work and watching his language was not something he particularly cared about right now. Getting this present done was his main priority today. It had been a little more than a year since Sasori had taken him in, and even though they had gotten in small arguments over things, he had come to love the other artist. Even when they disagreed he was never cruel to him...

Art was something Deidara had taken to quickly, creating and destroying(especially with small explosions, knowledge he had yet to tell anybody how he learned it having gotten in enough trouble before because of them). Building something pretty and destroying it was art to him, he adored it. Deidara would eventually learn from Sasori that the word he was looking for was 'fleeting'. He made good use of it ever since, to Sasori's sometimes annoyance.

Still, he and Sasori had very different views on art. The older man was dead-set on true art being eternal, being able to appreciate it forever, and that did not sit well with the boy. That was utterly boring, and he was quick to tell Sasori as much. Sasori simply replied he was a brat that was too young to understand what true art really was. Deidara shook his head at the memory, but figured Sasori must have saw something in his creations as he had clay to create with(but anything he could use to burn it or blow it up was off limits). That was not too much of an issue for Deidara, he could get some help with that from Hidan, usually.

Being careful today, he was also wearing his dark blue finger-less gloves to avoid the needle pricking one of his palm-mouths. They were an unexplained birth defect, he had been told. Deidara did not mind them, but others did. They were enough to mark him as a freak and outcast from other children, so he was normally left alone to ignore what they said about him, and he had gotten good at hiding to avoid bullies most of the time, but that was back at the orphanage.

Things had been different since Sasori had taken him in.

It seemed as though Sasori knew lots of other weird people too, and they were not cruel with their words or questions either.

"I hope Sasori likes it, un." He thought out loud, remembering one of Sasori's lady friends. Konan, she was stern but nice, and had told him a couple of weeks ago about a day to show your Father that you care about them. Why she told him about that, he did not know or question at the time, but was glad she did. Her face at the time reminded him of Hidan's before they got into mischief.

After learning this, he thought of his time with Sasori and realized the man had been like a Father to him.

He remembered the night he ran away from the new orphanage he had been recently transferred in to, running into Sasori for the first time when he was on his own, sleeping in the same bed as the man when he first started living with him, spending nights in his room when the weather was especially nasty and getting a special baseball mitt so he could play without his palm-mouth getting injured.

For the past week, he had been stealthily gathering supplies and hiding them from Sasori's sight. So, today he would be able to make something by hand that he knew everyone liked in one form or another; a little stuffed animal. A little scorpion shaped one. Or at least one he did his best to make it look like one. Proportions and shapes were noticeably off, but you could tell what it was on sight and that would have to do for now. This was not his specialty area.

The finishing touches would be adding its left eye and wrapping it. Deidara hoped Sasori would like it. 'Even a little,' he finished in thought.

According to the clock on his desk, it was eleven-fifty am and took him a moment to register that he had been working uninterrupted for over two hours. That usually only happened when the brat was at school, never on the weekend. 'About time for his nap too,' He thought, leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. Casting a look at his puppet, the red-head was glad to note it was nearly complete before getting up.

There was something else bugging him about working uninterrupted with Deidara around, and halfway up the stairs it occurred to him that he had worked through lunch, which was normally at eleven. Deidara had only turned six a couple of months ago and tried to insist he was too old for such things, only to fall asleep a few minutes later. Sasori noticed the boy was a bit advanced for his age and knew things no child that young should know. However, that was one thing Deidara remained tight lipped on. The blonde rarely mentioned times before he came to live with him, and Sasori only knew his time at the two different orphanages was not great.

Bumping into the boy that snowy night had changed his life in ways he had never expected. Sasori had never saw himself as someone having children, content with his career and art, which often overlapped. Ever since Deidara came to him, he had admittedly seen more of daylight than he had in a good while.

The strange rumors he was a vampire had also died down as well. Sasori was not unaware of them, he just worked at night at those times. His neighbors had strange imaginations and little free time to come up with something as outlandish as that.

Still, Sasori couldn't help but wonder if the brat was attempting something no good, again. At least it was no good to the red head. It was only the other day he had confiscated some unusual materials from Deidara and still, he didn't know where he had gotten them from. Among them them were small fireworks and matches, things no six year old should have had access to. Sasori suspected he had saved someone(namely himself) from both property and very possibly physical damages.

He did not have to go far to find Deidara. The boy was at the kitchen table, head lain down sideways and he was sleeping soundly. In front of him was a small box wrapped messily in newspaper with red ribbon tied into an uneven bow. Sasori would investigate the package in a moment. For now, he carefully lifted the six year old to take him to his room for his nap.

Deidara was not a light sleeper. He had not even muttered a word during the trip to his room and being set in bed. He had not even muttered a word during the trip to his room and being set in bed. Sasori would be asking about the sloppy band-aids on top of his fingers though. What exactly had the kid been up to? He wondered while he quietly left, making sure the door was shut behind him. At least it seemed to be less destructive than he had thought previously.

Heading back to the kitchen, Sasori found his answer on inspecting the package on the kitchen table. A tag on it was addressed to him and he supposed Deidara had come down to give it to him but had fallen asleep before that was possible. Why there was a gift there was another mystery. It was neither of their birthdays, no anniversary and the only thing that came to mind was it being the beginning of summer.

Curious, the red head quickly and carefully unwrapped the gift and the first thing he saw was a hand made card, complete with the boys messy child scrawl on the paper. Setting that aside, he got the item out of the box and gave it a hard look over. Judging by its design and craftsmanship he knew Deidara had made it(it would also explain the band-aids). Silently he could admit it was not very bad for a boy of Deidara's age and skill. The small scorpion was made with black cloth with dark blue button eyes, the shape was good enough for him to tell it was a scorpion.

Setting the present down(also noting to question how Deidara got a hold of the materials to make the thing), Sasori turned his attention back to the card with a raised brow.

If there was one thing Sasori had also gotten good at over the past year was deciphering Deidara's messy writing, misspellings and all.

Almost immediately something on the card gave him pause and he sat down. Father's Day was written larger than the rest of the words making it stand out there and now in his mind.

Father wasn't really a title he associated with himself or thought about; that would have gone to 'Genius Craftsman' or 'Puppet Master'. Those were well earned from his years of dedication to his art and details on his crafts, ones he took a great deal of pride in.

Father, that was a different deal altogether.

He had adopted the brat and he had long since come to care for the child. Sasori had taken care of him, taught him(finding the boys mind to be like a sponge on some subjects) and gone out of his way more than once for Deidara. After all, he had just come back from setting the boy down for nap and it would have been more unusual for him not to do it now.

Sasori spent a while at the table, thinking in silence over his time with Deidara, and came to the conclusion it was maybe time for him to add another title to his list.