Chapter Text
The tops of the city’s fountains could be seen poking over the furthest edges of the horizon. Franky guessed they had about two hours of sailing before reaching the docks of Water Seven. The Galley-La company ship’s deck was strewn with the exhausted, melancholic bodies of his new friends. Alright, they were his friends, but he knew he had a bit of work to do before they would consider him to be one of their’s. Shit, it would be an honor to earn that consideration. The cuddled pile of six drooling young people barely stirred as sailors rushed around them. Those bros worked hard, they deserved to sleep for a week after that fight, he thought. Someone, however, was missing from the heap.
The cyborg leaned back over the railing, staring at the frothing waves in middle distance. He didn’t know what to make of the last two days. Things had changed so quickly. It wasn’t clear how he fit into all of it, but it was more terrifying that he had. For one of the first times in his life, he had clicked right into place. Like a vital cog, rather than his much more comfortable position as the whole machine. They’d gotten off on a rough first step, yeah, but when he fought next to them… when he’d fought next to her…
Whoa. No. He didn’t have the room to be thinking thoughts like that. No distractions.
But, fuck, the more he rolled the idea through his brain, the more he liked the shape of it. Franky watched the sea foam churn below the ship and felt his stomach churn in tandem. He couldn’t act on this. She wouldn’t like— no one ever liked— No. He’d made his peace with the reality of his situation the day he finalized the first prosthesis. These were hands to shoot and destroy. Never to hold, never to lo-
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Cut the music. No. That word? Already? No fucking way. Not happening.
The cyborg felt sick to his refrigerator as his eyes unfocused vaguely toward the horizon. It wasn’t happening, it couldn’t happen, there was no where for this to go. And why her of all the chicks in the world? She was the fucking epitome of forbidden fruit.
Huh. That was cool. Her eyes were the same color as the sea.
No, dude. Stop this, now.
He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t notice the dark form that approached, didn’t feel the presence until contact sensors fired on the back of his hand.
“What are you looking for?” Nico fucking Robin asked, leaning against the handrails next to him. Of course. Dammit. Hopefully she couldn’t hear the way his pistons picked up speed, maybe she’d just assume he ran quick and hot all the time.
“Uhhh, I’m on siren duty. Gotta keep these dudes safe from the perilous call of the Sea,” Franky answered. He tried to keep his words cool and even, but shit, it was super difficult.
“Oh? Have you seen any yet?” The woman leaned much further over the side of the ship to look at the foam. Her bangs caught the ocean breeze, mussing up the blunt cut.
“Whoa, there,” he jolted. One big hand caught her waist, pulling her back just a hair. “Can’t have you jumpin’ in before they even call ya. ‘Cos then I’d have to dive in to save you, and I just dried off.”
“You’d jump in after me if I was enthralled by the call of the Sea? That’s sweet,” she hummed as she shifted back and turned to face him. The cyborg realized he still had his hand on her waist and promptly dropped the contact.
“B-b-because I’m on siren duty. It’s part of the job description. I’d- I’d jump in for any of these bros. Can’t lose anyone to the call… But also I know you can’t swim ’n that seems like a shitty way to go,” Franky shrugged with forced nonchalance. The flush over his cheeks revealed his dealt hand, however. That made her laugh. He really liked the sound. Oh, fuck.
“Is that why you’re always in your swimsuit?”
“Gotta be prepared for anything,” he winked. Why the hell did he do that? Fucking auto pilot must have kicked in. He had some recalibration to do when he got home. Those oceanic irises flickered down to his briefs and back up again. His cheeks felt hot, maybe he needed to check the coolant levels, too.
“Is your face real?” The historian wondered aloud.
“Uh, sorry, did you just ask me if my face was real?”
“I’m just curious, I can’t tell where the enhancements end and the You begins.”
“It’s all me.”
“Is it?”
Robin was leaning in close. Her eyes clearly investigated his face. Too close, too close, too close. Why her? Why now? Why this? He couldn’t tell if it was the bees in his fridge or his rusty sea legs that made his insides churn faster.
“I’ll elaborate,” she continued after a beat. “What I mean by the question is, did you make the choice yourself to have the ability to blush?”
Shit, she’d noticed. Of course she fucking noticed.
“Oh, totally! Gotta keep the blood flowin’ somehow,” he winked again. Maybe there was something wrong with the motor near his eye. He’d have to do some maintenance.
“That’s cute.”
“Cute and sweet? Lady, I think you got a totally incorrect read on me.”
“Mmm, I’m not so sure. Reading comprehension’s a skill of mine,” the demon woman laughed. An extra hand emerged from the void and looked like it was about to brush along his cheekbones. It stopped just an inch away from the synthetic skin, visibly pulled back, and disappeared again before the contact could be made. “Sorry, that was rude. Sometimes my hands have a bit of a mind of their own.”
“Yeah I think I know the feeling,” the man laughed. Something pinged like a radiator deep in his chest.
“Do you get the itch, too? After a big fight, I mean. In the moment, with all the adrenaline, it’s always easier to snap necks on instinct. Though, it’s much trickier to come down from that high,” Robin hummed with a much darker intonation.
“Uh, uhhhhhh,” He could barely formulate words, “Y-yeah I know whatcha mean. ’S easy for me to, uh, shoot off without really thinkin’ about it. But gettin’ past the rush is… hard.”
“It’s nice to know someone understands,” she smiled, but there was something sharp and wicked behind those lips. Fuck, when had they gotten so close? Her face filled his whole vision, occupied his whole world. He couldn’t even see the sea. It didn’t matter. Those sparkling eyes snapped down to his lips before meeting his gaze again. What the hell sort of game was she playing? What sort of game was he playing? He’d been the first to stare at her lips, after all.
The archeologist shivered, “I think I’m a bit cold, I might want to head inside. Are you going to remain on siren duty?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna stay here for a bit. Someone’s gotta keep an eye out.”
“Well, just come find me if you need a hand.”
Soft fingers traced his tattoo. The machine rattled even harder.
“You’ll be the first one I ask.”
“Good. Don’t stay out here long, you seem cold, too. Those clothes look a bit flimsy for the weather. You might want to warm up,” Nico Robin laughed and took a few steps back.
“But what if one of these dudes falls for that siren?”
“That would be a real shame for him. He should be more careful.”
“Yeah, maybe he should work a bit harder on his iron will.”
“Or maybe his iron will is part of the appeal,” she chuckled. The woman turned and began to properly walk toward the galley door.
His jaw was on the fucking floor. What the hell was she doing?
“Uh, well, bye, Nico Robin. Thanks for the talk.”
“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. We’ve still got some distance until we're back to the city, yes? You and I are trapped on this vessel for a least a while longer. I’ll see you later, Franky.”
“I- uh- uh- yeah. See ya,” he stumbled. What the hell did she mean by that? What the fuck was she thinking? What did she want? She was too hard to read, he’d have to step his game up. Time to break out the dictionary and encyclopedia and maybe a thesaurus or two. An engineering mind buzzed at the challenge.
Robin laughed that sweet laugh one last time. The siren’s song beaconed for him to follow but… no. He could do this. He could be strong. Forge his iron will. She could have meant anything by that. It was the pervert’s mind that added innuendo, he assured himself.
And it was the pervert’s mind that wanted to know what all those hands could do.
Franky turned back to the sea before she had entered the ship, determined to hide his returning blush. He took a few deep gulps of sea air. Steeled prosthesis gripped the banister tight. It would be a mistake to follow. He wasn’t reading the signs correctly, she didn’t mean what he assumed she meant. So he stayed and kept his eyes locked to those fountains.
If he followed her through that door, he wouldn’t know what waited on the other side. If things could change this fast in a day and a half of knowing these people, then future progress was nearly exponential.
He liked where he was. He liked what he had going on.
Maybe.
Maintenance was easy, upgrades were harder. Upgrades hurt. It was a process he wasn’t itching to return to, even if he always liked the result, and especially when the upgrades were necessary.
But fuck it was so tempting to follow.
And Franky was never good at denying temptation.
This was the forbidden fruit of all forbidden fruits.
The one woman he was always told to watch his back for.
Come with me, her voice seemed to whisper in his ear like petals in the breeze.
He was losing his fucking mind.
No way.
Something tapped his shoulder and the big man spun, suddenly too hopeful that she had returned to keep the conversation going. No one was standing behind him. Damn. The wave of disappointment hit, sending him tumbling. What the hell was going on? Why was he feeling like this? Whatever. He shook his head and returned to watching the shapes in the sea foam. Pretty, pink, little flowers skimmed the ocean’s surface.
The cyborg’s attention was prodded once more, this time with a pinch to the softer skin that peeked out from under the backside of his swimsuit. Franky yelped and covered his mouth with his hand. He looked from side to side, hazily putting the pieces together.
No. No, he couldn’t. They couldn’t. He could do this, he could be strong.
When the man turned out to the sea this time, however, a slender arm greeted him. It emerged from the handrail and poked him in the chest, lingering for a moment in between his pectorals. He covered around it with his arms and shoulders, like he was protecting a secret. She poked him in the chest another time and then pointed to one of the galley doors.
Go, the wind whispered again.
The Sea was calling him, the siren’s call seducing that primal part of his mind.
As a secondary precaution, another hand poked out from a crate next to the door, waved, and pointed as well. Franky furrowed his brow and looked between the limb in front of his face and the one across the deck. He attempted to catch the one before him, but it burst into petals before he could make contact. There was another tap on his shoulder, another pinch on his butt, a light tug in his hair. The hand next to the door pointed sharply again, the toned muscles straining to convey information.
“What the hell does this chick want?” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Maybe… maybe she just wanted to talk some more in the warmth? That’s all this was, she just wanted a spot a little more private, a little hotter than the chilly March sea. Unless she wanted to… no that wasn’t it. She probably just wanted to keep talking. Their words flowed back and forth in a way he liked. In a way he lo-
Nope.
The big cyborg zoned out as he ran their encounter over in his mind again. He must have added all that extra meaning in. She was probably just looking for a little corner to chill out in. But even the opportunity to chill with her sounded tempting. He was in his head for too long. Something internal conceded control. Autopilot kicked in, and those backup systems were much worse at putting up appearances. Limbs practically had a mind of their own. The man hadn’t fully realized he was moving across the deck until he had put his hand on the galley door.
“You… want me to go?” He looked down at the limb. It made a little sign like an excited nod and pointed again. Franky peered through the porthole and his eyes grew wide at the sight of another limb dangling from the ceiling, waving back at him. He pushed the door open and stepped into the warmth of the interior decks. A few sailors sat on benches and cargo, but none seemed to notice the trail of appendages or the large man that followed them like breadcrumbs.
It was too late, he’d already been hooked.
No room to bail now. No turning back.
She probably just wanted to talk. He could do that. He could be cool and regular and normal. Just a guy. A regular fucking human being. They were adults, he could have normal conversation with this woman without making it weird. He could keep it casual.
The cyborg stumbled deeper and deeper into the hull. Lights grew dim, the sound of water grew louder. Hand after hand pointed him down the halls and around corners. She beaconed him forward through the labyrinth. Each time he got close to a phantom limb, it would disappear, leaving only soft petals floating in the still air. Then, the next would sprout a few meters away.
The last hand, however, did not flinch as he approached. It sat just below eye level on the wall, hiding behind a sconce. This one’s point was fixed to a final door, small and unassuming in the darkest periphery of the lower decks.
“Lady, you hang out in some super weird places,” He laughed. The hand on the wall relaxed from its direction and he took the opportunity to deliver a light high five. The arm immediately burst into petals, but he had just enough sensors in his hands to know he made contact.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
The cyborg’s big fist wrapped around the door handle, and there was no resistance as he pulled it open. What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was the wriggling forms that burst from the darkness. A hundred appendages suddenly grabbed hold of his body and pulled him into the inky void. Dozens more limbs pushed him from behind, wrapping themselves through his hair and behind his thighs. One fist, feeling just a degree more tangible than the rest, tightened around his chain and yanked the machine down with vigor. The door slammed tightly, quickly engulfing everything in the darkness of the closet.
It was like someone had turned his occipital sensors off but turned every other sensor up all the way. The raw contact was overwhelming. Franky’s hands were pinned down near his sides and his shoulders were held tight up against the wall. It felt like each surface of the little wood cabinet had been turned into a sea of writhing phalanges. Every available cube of air was occupied by a hand. They crashed over him like a great wave; the touch was so intense he felt for a moment like he was drowning.
For as much of a show of bravado as he liked to put on, the cyborg’s fried nerve endings ached from how long it had been since the last time he was properly touched, especially touched this much. The hands were everywhere; no patch of skin real, scarred, or synthetic went unaddressed. A sound like a low whimper escaped his lips. More and more and more wrapped themselves through his hair, knotting and pulling gently at the base of his scalp. Fuck, that felt good.
Franky could have been in the heights of the cosmos or the depths of the sea, neither direction mattered in the moment. Uncountable hands traced his traps, his shoulder blades, his collar, his nipples. He ached from the feeling. It wasn’t enough— they were everywhere and they still weren’t enough. Every inch of the wall was occupied by a digit, drumming their way down his spine. It felt like stinging anemone on his raw skin, prickling along his most human places. His shirt dropped to the floor, not on his own accord.
Nails scraped lightly around his raw biceps and the intensity was enough to make him weak in the knees. The large man’s whole body quaked in the dark, and every hand wrapped around him palmed his skin to keep him on his feet. He wasn’t even sure he had the sensors to record all this new contact input.
Robin wasn’t done investigating. More hands wrapped themselves around his ankles to steady him. She was so strong, he couldn’t push against her without at least a little mechanical assistance. Not that he wanted to. Even more hands filled the space around his legs, fully covering his entire bottom half. They traveled down his calves and up his thighs. More traced runes into the back of his legs and followed the strong lines of iron bone across his toes. One digit poked at the back of his knees, right where raw skin interfaced with his prosthesis. He felt them give way immediately. The cyborg’s drooling cranium and wracked chest heaved forwards as his knees buckled, but he was greeted by another tsunami of appendages.
Extra warmth filled his core. An unguessable number of arms grabbed around his lower abdomen, an equal number held firm to his butt and upper thighs. With his core secured tightly, there was no fear of falling. Shit, she was super strong. The hands splayed over his lower abs searched blindly, following the contours of his form. He groaned lightly, willing the rest to travel just a little bit lower.
“So, how’s that iron will treating you?” Robin asked from the shadows. Every little movement of each hand made him feel like his was on fire. Super charged. Forged.
“Turns out sirens are harder to avoid that I th-thought. Fuckin’ hubris, or whatever,” he barely mouthed the words.
That made her chuckle, brightening the void with glistening moonlight.
His sensors were starting to get adjusted to the dark. Oh, she was so much closer that he’d realized among the tangle of limbs. Each palm pressed him down, gently lowering him onto his knees in the cramped closet space. One hand finally traced the top band on his spandex. Another shudder overtook his starved body. She engulfed him in a sea of hands determined to chart every notch of his form that hadn’t been witnessed in almost a decade. He hadn’t felt this desperate in a long, long time. The big man sat on his knees in the broom closet, hands tied. She could snap his neck in the darkness like this and he would die grinning.
There was a shift in the air and Robin pressed even closer to fill the atmosphere immediately in front of Franky’s face. The tips of her hair brushed along his temple, and the hands that traced his lips journeyed to his jaw and sideburns. All he could do was groan again, a light tear falling down one sculpted cheek.
The woman’s mouth worked from his ear, over his jaw, and down to his bottom lip that hung open in awe. Her many hands holding his wrists released their grasp. That acquiescence was all he needed.
One big hand shot up to catch the back of her head and he brought her in closer, closing the kiss in tight. Her lips were soft but pushed against his with a force that he liked. She wrapped her grip into his long hair and ran fingers down his sideburns. Nico fucking Robin filled his whole perceivable world. Her eyes closed as she pressed kiss after kiss into his lips.
A kiss like a lit fuse. Tense and sparkling.
His senses were overwhelmed by her perfume of petals, despite their long day of jumping off burning buildings. She smelled like… some flower he could recognize but not name. He didn’t know enough about plants to pinpoint it. Lips and tongue tasted of nectar and honey, tears and blood. Something organic, something iron.
That big brain of his couldn’t put the pieces of her composure together. The archeologist was so calm and collected, despite toying with dangerous machinery. His iron will was definitely gone, replaced by a lot more human grey matter. The massive cyborg whimpered on his knees in the dark, internally begging for her to never stop touching his rough and lonely body. He should have realized the night before that this was always going to be a game played by her rules.
Big hands returned the exploration. His right thumb held onto the side of her face, fingers wrapping around the back of her head. His left hand slid up her leg and latched tightly from her hip to the small of her back. The kiss deepened, practically calling for more, more, more, more, more. A small voice piqued in the back of his mind, but he brushed aside whatever comment it was attempting to make. Nothing could be more important than her in this moment.
Franky fought the urge to make their contact too messy; they were already covered in so much blood and dirt from their journey to the gates of hell. He couldn’t tell if he was still crying. All he wanted was to see her unrefined, pushed to a limit of dropping her composure. That wasn’t ever going to happen when she was as in control as she was in this mop closet. He’d have to take her somewhere nicer after this to tie up the score.
The hands grasping at his biceps and abdomen gave her game away though. They were getting sloppy and disorganized. His true flesh felt like it was lost in a storm. The fingers drummed on his every inch of remaining skin like rain, though the rolling thunder that filled his ears came from the woman’s chest.
Robin smiled into his lips and breathed deep the atmosphere of their dark sub-nautical coffin. Her words were quick and echoed how he already felt. “I want more,” she sang into him. “Take me. Right here.”
Spare limbs pulled at the hand that had held her waist to bring him higher. The zipper on her leather dress inched lower, and the man was glad that his knees had already been taken out of the equation.
“Y’sure?“ he checked quickly but was muffled by her mouth again. His hand was guided by more of her’s to its proper destination. Both breasts were released from their precarious position in her dress, dropping into his palm like a weight. His thumb and forefinger found their hold around a nipple. It was her turn to moan into his lips. The voice in the back of his mind shouted louder but he disregarded whatever caution it offered a second time. He’d forgotten something. It probably didn’t matter.
She tossed her head back and panted for cool air. He lost himself to kissing from the corner of her mouth, down her neck, across her collarbone, around her free breast. His tongue swirled against her erect nipple, lips applying a light pull. His line of sight raised back up to the heavens and caught her sapphire eyes gazing back. All he could think about was lady spiders killing their mates after sex. Maybe it would be the greatest way to die, after all. Robin smiled down at him, hungry, ruminating on the same idea.
Many hands gripped his back side even harder and fingers began to trace the outline of his tight swimsuit. The voice in his mind bellowed to get his attention, but he buried his face deeper into her bosom. Whatever it was reminding him about could wait until he was done savoring this overwhelming feeling.
Her hand glanced over the slick material, breaching the barrier and reaching further down. He groaned and rolled his hips for release but none came. His inner voice screamed about the crucial key that he’d forgotten. It was just barely loud enough to break through the fog of lust. Franky’s eyes shot wide open.
“Wait! Fuck! Wait stop!”
Every hand immediately disappeared in a rush of petals. Robin took the furthest possible step back that she could in the space, crashing into a pile of cleaning supplies. The sudden release of every hand holding him in place made the man drop from his knees to his forearms and he panted, forehead to the ground.
“I- I- Are you alright? Is this not… I’m so sorry,” she stammered as she looked for a way to turn on the light. It was as if they had both been suddenly doused by freezing sea water.
“Wha- no, no, no, no way, it’s a me thing. I super promise. That was— fuck that was incredible. I didn’t want you to stop,” Franky shook the afterimages from his head as the lights turned on. The sudden luminance burned his retinal sensors, but it also highlighted Robin’s worried eyes. She was still bare chested, but he did his best to keep composed. She caught the way his eyes flickered down to them and started to zip her dress back up.
“It was too much, I shouldn’t have…” she murmured to herself as she adjusted her clothes.
“No! No not at all! It’s something super embarrassing for me, promise,” he scrambled to fix the situation before he lost her to melancholy. The archeologist didn’t respond, but gave him a look with a raised eyebrow. Franky stood up from his hands and knees, extending an arm for her to respond if she chose. Robin leaned in and he wrapped her in a tight hug against his bare chest. Warm and sturdy.
“You don’t have to tell me, your reasons are your own,” the woman’s gaze was low, brows knit in deep retrospection.
“I left my dick at home.”
“W-what?”
The cyborg huffed and brushed his exhausted hair out of his face. “Yeah, but like, don’t tell anyone okay? I have it. I have one, I have plenty. They all work and everything. But I had a busy few days, okay? So I ran my errands in my intimidation packer. I didn’t totally think I’d need to like- y’know- perform when I got dressed last. And then my house blew up while I was out of town so like, I don't even know where they are right now,” he rambled nervously.
Robin stammered for a moment and pulled back a hair from the embrace. He couldn’t control his blush. Eyes averted their gaze. This was it. At least he got to kiss her once before the rejection came.
“So,” she inquired, thoughtful, “is there another way that we could keep going without it?”
It was Franky’s turn to be at a loss for words as he put together what she was asking. He had always assumed immediate rejection for his more eclectic approach to matters of lust, particularly since the accident.
“I mean, we could for just you,” he sighed, but tightened his hold on her waist. “There’s no way for me to- uh- get to the fireworks, but I got plenty of ways to get you there now. If you want. Fuck, the one time you forget to pack your emergency cock is the one time you meet a hot chick with a thousand arms who wants to go at it in a broom closet. Damn it! Definitely learned my lesson. Not super.”
The woman chuckled into her hand at the display before her. “I’ll wait for the equal company, that’s fine. It isn’t long until we’re back in town, correct? We have plenty of time to try again later,” she mused and kissed his jaw.
Franky’s mind blurred at the notion that she would even want another hook up like the one they were currently having. His nerves burned, begging for the prickle of her infinite touch to wash over him once more.
“Y-you sure?”
“Mmmhmm.”
“Fuckin’ super, okay. I’ll find you later tonight, we can go anywhere in the city you want!” He grinned back to the archeologist in his arms.
“That sounds more like a date than what I had in mind,” Robin’s eyes were wicked.
“We can fuck in any utility closet in the city you want!” Franky corrected himself. She laughed again. He was already growing addicted to the sound.
“Well, maybe a slightly bigger space would be more accommodating,” the woman hummed. One phantom hand ran from the taper of his neck up to the crown of his head. It mussed his updo, letting the erect strands slap the ceiling of the tight cupboard. Suddenly, the movement of her fingers froze and her head cocked to one side. The devil woman appeared to be listening to something intently, though her companion could not make out the sound.
She continued after a pause, “I think that the mayor is looking for you on deck? I seem to have pulled you away long enough to be missed. You’ve only got a few minutes before they come searching.”
The cyborg grabbed his shirt off the ground and slung it back loosely over his shoulders. He grinned and ran one cheeky hand over the hem of her leather dress, “Super, that’s one more minute to burn.”
It was his turn to press her against the closet walls, hand running through raven tresses. Lips crashed together again, now desperate to avoid the inevitable separation. The equal exchange of pressure built around them like a weather system. Franky cupped her ass, lifting her easily off of the ground. Long legs tightened around his core and he instinctually ground his hips against her. Her initial hot gasp decayed into laughter.
“Ah- I agree, intimidating is the correct word for this accessory.”
“Oh, lady, you should see what the others can do,” he joined in her giggles between kisses.
“I’m- ah- looking forward to the learning opportunity. It isn’t every day one gets to witness a mmmm-master pervert at the height of his craft.”
“I think I like that about you, Nico Robin. You’re a freak like me.”
His big hand on her backside tightened, one finger brushing close enough to her core that she moaned deliciously. The palm in her hair ruffled her bangs and made almost purposeful effort to make her appearance disheveled. Lips took one last lingering journey to absorb what they could, while they could.
“There, now we’re both super stirred up. Have fun! I’ll see you later tonight!” The man set her gently back on the ground and laid a peck into her messy hair. Robin laughed in startled disbelief as he swung the closet entrance back open and sauntered through with a wave.
“And I’ll remember my penis!” He shouted before throwing the door closed behind him. Pretty, pink petals swirled on both sides of the threshold. Well, he’d totally fucked that one up, but at least he’d get a second chance.
It’s not a date, it’s just a hookup, Franky reminded himself. But, shit, if he had more of that in his future, he’d need to try super hard to make sure she’d want to keep this thing going for as long as he could get it. It’s a hookup. It’s temporary. She’s a pirate, and if pirates knew how to do anything it was break a heart or two on shore leave. The repeating phrases didn’t do much to sway his mind or calm him down.
If this is what she wanted… if he was what she wanted… who was he to stop it? He could mend a broken heart like he mended everything else. That was Future Franky’s problem. Maybe it was time to stop looking ahead, maybe it was time to start living in the now.
Damn, that was fun.
He couldn’t wait for more.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
“Where the fuck have you been, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Paulie threw his arms up as the cyborg bounded back onto the deck.
“Eh? Oh, I was, uh, super busy.”
“Busy doing what? You weren’t fucking around with the ship were you? This is a professional operation.”
“Yeah I was installing a laser to the bow. You’re totally welcome,” Franky grinned cheekily at Iceburg and the foreman.
“Oh my god,” the blond man bit hard on his cigar.
“Please don’t do that,” the mayor shook his head, though his little step-brother knew him well enough to catch the flicker of smile that itched in the corners of his mouth.
“Soooooo whadja need?” Big metal hands drummed on the bannister.
“We’re an hour away from docking, we’ll need your help with the sails and moving some cargo around. We figured we should find you early since it’s so easy for you to wander off and get distracted. Just stay here. Sit still. Don’t touch anything. Can you do that?” Iceburg squinted.
“Boooo, really? That super sucks, bro. Have more faith in me!”
“No,” both shipwrights answered simultaneously.
“Can’t believe I stopped… building a laser for this,” the turquoise man grumbled and sat on a wooden crate.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t wandering off and building a laser on other people’s ships, we wouldn’t have this problem,” the mayor chided.
The moment felt reminiscent of when they were apprentices. His older bro was giving him shit for doing his own thing, the younger kid was following along in agreement. Franky crossed his guns and frowned like a petulant teenager caught in the middle. The other two got back to their plans for berthing, but something else on the lower decks seemed to sway their attention. The Galley-La men muttered back and forth, exchanging worried glances.
“Uhhhh what’s up?” The cyborg cocked his head and attempted to squeeze into their conversation. It was as if he were a little shrimp again, poking over his big bro’s shoulder to see what he was doing.
“She- it’s nothing that concerns you. Boss, you want me to keep an eye on her? Or I can get someone else to do it,” Paulie offered and tried to use his shoulder to push against the iron man.
“No, it should be fine… probably. If Strawhat trusts her then… I don’t know,” Iceburg shook his head.
“She shot you three days ago, man! You have every right to be cautious with her on your ship!” His right hand man exclaimed with a puff of smoke
“Why… why was she in the hold? What was she doing down there?” The older man chewed his cheek and thumbed over his pet mouse to ease his worries.
Franky froze and followed the other two’s lines of sight to the dark haired woman walking across the deck to join her groggy nakama. He grimaced, torn between clearing her name without wholly exposing himself.
“Eh? You guys talkin’ ‘bout Nico Robin? She’s super fine, don’t worry about her! She was probably just like, lookin’ for the bathroom or some shit! Don’t worry,” he laughed nonchalantly and pat both burly men between the shoulder blades. Neither looked happy to receive the contact.
“Are you fucking stupid?” Paulie balked, “You’ve known how dangerous she is since you were a kid, man!”
“Nah, I talked to her about it last night, turns out none of that shit’s true! She’s super harmless,” the cyborg waved their concerns to the side. A metal fist was thrown over the mayor’s shoulder, and the older man winced in his bandages.
“Harmless?! Man, how harmless was the chest full of lead she filled Burg with? Or was it harmless the second time she attacked him, too?” The blond man stepped up a little aggressively.
Iceburg did his best to remove the heavy prosthesis off of his injuries. He inhaled slowly, trying to not disrupt his many stitches. “I’m fine,” the dark blue man offered weakly.
“No you’re not!” The foreman grew even more heated.
“But- but she was tricked into it,” Franky tried to defend.
Iceburg stared bluntly, “She still did it. I don’t think she’ll make a third attempt on my life, but that doesn’t mean I have to like her snooping around the lower decks.”
The cyborg’s inner shrimp recoiled, seeing the losing battle. He shrunk away and stared at the deck’s floorboards. “Robin’s not like that,” he muttered to himself.
“She’s not- wha- Oh my god, no. Don’t tell me,” Paulie teased.
“What?”
“You see this, boss? No fuckin’ way.”
The mayor gave his co-apprentice a warning glance. Don’t, it seemed to say.
“What? I’m just sayin’, I spent the day with the chick and she really doesn’t seem like the type to—.”
“One day? Don’t make me laugh,” the foreman laughed.
“She could have said any number of things to you to sway your opinion. Please be cautious around her,” the oldest man warned.
“I- I’m super cautious! And I don’t even know her! I’m just tellin’ you dudes what she told me, ‘kay?”
“Then why are you blushing like that? What is this, man, you got a crush or somethin’?” The youngest guy needled with a cheeky gnaw of his cigar.
“Sh-shut up! I don’t, I’m just sayin’ she’s not the gal we were told about, yeah? She’s… she’s different.”
“Oh my god, he does,” Iceburg half-whispered to himself, jaw dropped. Tyrannosaurus squeaked in agreement.
“I don’t!” Franky was starting to feel himself grow overly defensive. “I’m a grown ass man, alright? I don’t get crushes, it’s not like that. I just… I think maybe we judged her super harshly for things she didn’t even do twenty years ago. She’s not the kid on the wanted poster. She’s… she’s…”
He was floundering, backed into a corner. This wasn’t very bro code of his bros. He missed Mozu, Kiwi, and Zambai. They always knew how to gas him up, unlike these wet fucking blankets. Damn.
“I’m not judging her for some made up story from when she was a kid. I’m judging her for pulling the trigger three days ago. Even if it was under duress, I think I’m perfectly allowed to feel a bit negative about the circumstances,” the mayor gestured at his bandages.
“I- I mean yeah, but…” he didn’t know how to justify himself, justify his feelings. He felt conflicted about her, but it was a funky kind of conflict. She’d taken some victims, yeah. Then again by that standard, he had, too. Hopefully she didn’t know about the Longnose thing. It made his stomach churn with guilt. The sight of Burg wrapped like a mummy made his stomach churn even harder. He barely even had a stomach any more, what the hell? There was something else in the mix, though. Giddy little bees buzzed in his refrigerator just thinking about her.
Franky turned to the side and ruminated hard. His strong brow knit and he stared off into space. Ideas felt muddy, and every time he blinked he could see those hands reaching through the door to snatch him up. She wasn’t a bad guy, she couldn’t be a bad guy. It was probably selfish wanting to feel those hands on all his squishy bits, but he wanted other things, too. Plenty of other things. Emotional things? No. That would make it complicated. This wasn’t a crush. No way. It was just sex. He’d get home, he’d find his dick, he’d sleep with her, he’d get it out of his system, he’d move on. What did the other dudes know? He didn’t even think Burg liked women.
The sensation that reverberated out of him every time he thought about her was making him feel funky. Funky in a good way, or maybe funky in a bad way. Funky in a funky way.
Occipital sensors blinked back into physical space and the cyborg realized he had been staring vaguely at the distanced pile of sleeping pirates. He was zoned out in her direction next to them. Fuck, she was going to think he was a pervy ass creeper following her.
Robin caught his eye line from the lower deck and gave a tiny wave with an extra hand. He waved back, a small movement from a massive gun. She lifted a fourth limb to flash a thumbs up, brows raised in silent question. Franky gave one quick nod with a sheepish grin. Her brows raised even higher, not believing him. The cyborg’s shy expression transformed into a big, bright smile. He wore the mask well, and it even felt genuine when he heard her chuckle float on the wind from the other side of the ship. That’s all that mattered. No, she wasn’t a bad guy. Couldn’t be.
The archeologist smirked in resignation. Okay, she seemed to mouth with a distanced nod. He couldn’t help but wink back, though he wasn’t sure if it was noticeable from so far away. The way Robin caught herself and turned away to face the sea, he could tell she’d seen it and was trying to hide her flush. It hadn’t even been two full days and he was already beginning to find that woman’s rhythm. Whatever this game was, he was having fun playing it. Though, he would need to get that fucking eye checked out. Maybe some wires had gotten damaged in the battle. They’d be home soon, it was fine.
When Franky turned back to the conversation around him, he was met with the men’s dumbstruck expressions. Paulie’s cigar was half hanging out of his mouth. Even the mouse seemed to ask, dude, what the fuck was that?
“Wha-“
“Don’t do this, Franky. Seriously,” the mayor frowned.
“I don’t-“
“This is a bad idea, man. Like, worse than all your usual bad ideas. This is a mistake,” the blond one shook his head.
“I’m not-“
“Stop flirting with her. We’re saying this because we don’t want her to hurt you. Everything else aside, she’s a wanted pirate, there’s no way this doesn’t end up messy for you one way or another. This is a bomb of a situation,” his big bro put a hand on his shoulder.
“Well, y’ know me,” Franky shrugged, retreating back to his inner shrimp once more.
“Yeah, we do know you, man. We know that no matter what we say, you’re gonna chase this anyway. Actually, you’re probably going to chase her harder because we told you it’s a bad idea. Aren’t you?” Paulie crossed his arms.
“What would Tom say to you, huh? Her? Of all people?” Iceburg looked him dead in the eye.
“Don’t pull that card, he’s not here! And… and he wouldn’t say that! He’d laugh and hand me a condom and tell me I’m cleaning up the mess when the bomb goes off.”
“Which is exactly what you’re going to be doing. So maybe you should save yourself the effort and just don’t light the fuse,” the mayor gave him that look he always hated. That big bro look that was always right.
Fuckin’ Burg never got it. The fun of a good bomb was the fuse. The best part of the bomb was the explosion, sure, but it was the trail of sparks that infected the bloodstream. If he did it just right, played her game with care, he could even get away with minimal cleanup.
If he played it with precision, then the only casualty would be himself.
He liked his odds, even if the others didn’t seem so confident.
“I’ll back off,” he lied. Both big guns raised in concession.
“You’re lying.”
“I’d never! You’re right, bros. She’s a pirate, she’s a bad guy, she pulled the trigger on Bakaburg before I ever got the balls to, she’s suuuuuuuper dangerous. You made some good points and I’m totally swayed. Thanks for the advice, dudes.”
Paulie clearly didn’t believe the act, but Iceburg melted just a fraction. “Yeah? Good. Okay. Thank you, Franky. I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Again. And I really don’t want to see what you’ll do to my city if the bomb goes off,” the older man squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“Nope! I’m going to save you dudes millions in property damage. I promise, I will not date Nico Robin while she’s stuck in the city,” the cyborg shook his head dramatically. The mask-like grin felt closer to bared teeth, but that didn’t matter. What they thought didn’t matter, either. These guys didn’t need to know he felt that way. A dude could tell you to not light the fuse, but it took a real bro to be waiting in the wings with the ambulance for the aftermath.
“Date?” The foreman scoffed.
“Well I ain’t fuckin’ marrying her!”
Both of the Galley-La men rolled their eyes and gave each other a look. Franky waved them off and found a spot on the railing to stare out at the water. The city’s fountains had reached much higher over the horizon, now revealing the whole chandelier of buildings. He ran through his native directory in his mind of all the best places he could take her out to once they’d docked. It’d be late, but that wouldn’t be an issue at some of his most cherished dives. He could just take her home… but, fuck, the house was gone. His room was probably a mess, if he even had a room any more.
He could… he could… he could take her to go get food? Nah, she wouldn’t like that. She was a classy fuckin’ lady, that wasn’t her kind of scene. In his younger days, he would have just taken her to Blueno’s and then maybe a shitty hotel, but Blueno’s would probably be all boarded up and closed without its owner coming home.
Wait.
Franky perked right up and had to put real effort in not shaking his hands with excitement.
It was sort of super perfect. A victimless crime, really. Worse case scenario, what was one piddly breaking and entering charge? Was there even a better place to light off a cherry bomb or two than an abandoned building?
He made up his mind with a nod and a smile.
First, he’d find his dick. Didn’t even matter which one, any one would do.
Then, he’d add some spice. It wasn’t a date… but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be the nicest hookup of her life. He had the capacity to be chivalrous. Probably.
Finally, he’d give her just what she wanted. Maybe even leave her begging for an encore. He’d be cool about it. A real suave mother fucker. And then he’d have the itch out of his hands and everything would be fine. He’d move on from his life and go back to whatever it is he’d been up to the last few years.
Yeah. Yeah that was exactly how it’d go. Just a chill, regular hookup with a demon chick who could touch him all over with a thousand arms. No feelings, no complications, no bomb in sight.
Though that probably meant it was a land mine, didn’t it? Those didn’t have fuses. And knowing his luck, he’d probably already stepped on it.
Oops.