Archive of Our Own ^beta

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.

Chapter Text

Nami sunk lower in the bath, her eyes trained on the other woman rushing around the company bathing room. Robin towel dried her bangs, applied mascara, and rubbed perfume into her wrists.

“What are you doing? It’s midnight,” the navigator frowned.

Robin froze, mid earring-adjustment.

“I- would you believe me if I said I was getting ready for bed?”

“Uh, no way. You look like you’re getting ready to go out!” The redhead raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“What if I want to go out on a Friday night? That’s a normal thing people do.”

“Girl, you just escaped going to hell prison, you sure you want to go out right now? I’m exhausted, I don’t know about you. Why don’t we just stay in, have a girls’ night? I’ll wake Sanji up to make us some snacks, we can just decompress from the fight,” Nami offered as she relaxed her head on the tiled rim of the big tub.

“Could we do that tomorrow night? I’m looking to get some fresh air, see what this city has to offer,” the archeologist shook her head. She picked a fresh sweater up off of a little stack of laundry and buttoned each closure with care.

“Fine, I can find the energy to go out. So where are we going?”

Robin froze halfway through putting her top on, “O-oh. Hm. I- actually, how do I say this…”

“Wait you’re going out without me?! All on your own? What the hell!” The younger woman seemed disappointed to not be invited to an outing she hadn’t even wanted to attend.

“Well, it’s not quite- I’m not-.”

“You’re not… you’re not leaving us again, are you?” Nami flashed hurt eyes, admittedly still a little raw from the betrayal just a few days before.

“I- no. I promise. I’m not going anywhere,” Robin shook her head, making eye contact through the steamy mirror.

“But you are going out.”

“Yes. I’m… I’m meeting someone,” the dark haired woman grimaced internally, unsure if she was ready to admit to the nature of her late night venture. She’d have to play the conversation close to the chest to gather as much information as she could without revealing her whole hand. Honesty was necessary for rebuilding trust with her nakama, but she also wasn’t keen on just blurting out the truth. I’m going to wander around the city until I run into that exhibitionist robot and then I’m going to have my way with him until that big brain of his leaks out of his ears. And if it’s as good as it looks like it’s going to be, I’ll probably do him a second time for good measure. No, she thought to herself, she couldn’t admit to that.

“You’re meeting someone?! Like a date? Hell yeah, girl, fucking get it!” Nami immediately perked backed up. She shifted her position in the bath tub to put both elbows on the edge closest to the other lady and rest her chin on her forearms.

“It’s not a date,” Robin corrected.

The redhead gasped, “Oh my god, no fucking way. You’re going out for a hookup? You?! You’re never into that sort of thing! Wooooow, Robin!”

“I- I am perfectly capable of-“

“Wait!” Nami interrupted, “Where’d you even meet someone?”

Damn, that was the question she’d been hoping to avoid.

“H-he—“

“HE?! Oh, don’t tell me, is it one of those good looking Galley-La guys? They’re not my usual type, but some of them are pretty cute, I’ve got to admit. And the people around this city are so horny for those boat men. ”

“I don’t entirely know what he does. And his identity doesn’t entirely matter,” the archeologist shook her head with a little smile.

“Uh, yes it does! What if you get murdered and the police ask me who you went out with? And then they have to investigate every man between twenty and seventy five in this whole city,” the navigator giggled.

“He’s not seventy five. And you know I’d snap his neck before he had a chance to try anything like that. I’ll be safe, I promise. He isn’t that sort of man, I don’t think.”

“Yeah, ha. It’s not like you’re going out with fucking Franky,” Nami rolled her eyes with tangible disgust.

Robin stuttered at the reaction and hoped the other girl didn’t pick up on the hiccup. “W-what do you mean by that?”

“Oh, wait did you hear about what happened? The same afternoon you disappeared, Franky’s boys mugged Usopp and stole two hundred million beri. And then he went to go get it back and Franky beat the shit out of him. Like, it was bad bad. Chopper was freaking out, there was so much blood. I-,” the redhead paled at the memory. She ran her hands through the bath water like she was trying to scrub off something permanently tattooed to her fingertips.

Something in the older woman’s stomach churned. That didn’t seem right, there had to be more to the story, but no more elaboration was offered. “Oh,” she whispered and averted her eyes, “I didn’t know about that. I noticed the bandages when I saw him last but I didn’t realize it was… hmmm.”

The information didn’t add up with the assessment she’d made of the man who had continuously helped save her life. She believed her friend, of course, but she also felt caught up on another feeling. Not hesitant because the revelation made her change her mind about hooking up with the man, but hesitant because it didn’t. The lack of sway made her feel a bit guilty.

Robin had assumed he probably had a bit of a violent side just based on how he talked and how he looked and how he punched all those marines. It was difficult to imagine those big, iron fists in contact with that sweet boy, but not impossible. On the other hand, though, she’d felt those machines for herself. They’d held her with such tenderness when he’d caught her, when he’d steadied her waist, when he’d stroked her cheek, when he’d cupped her breasts in that dark little mop closet and left her wanting so much more.

No, she was getting distracted.

The blunt banged woman stared keenly at the vanity, brows knit to keep the blush away. This was serious, this could change things. On the third hand, it wasn’t like she had a perfect record herself. The look of the mayor’s shocked expression flashed across her mind and she shut her eyes tight. Every story had another side, the demon woman reminded herself. She’d simply ask Franky about it when she saw him. Maybe he wouldn’t want to be with her after learning of her monstrous deeds, as well. The idea made her stomach churn harder. Butterflies sprouted from chrysalises in her throat.

She’d ask him why he’d do such a thing before she slept with him. Or maybe she’d sleep with him first, then ask. And possibly go in for that round two, if his answer was satisfactory. Not that any of this was guaranteed. That man could have always changed his mind.

Her mixed silence was interrupted by the sound of Nami standing up from the bath. A daisy chain of hands passed a fresh towel to the young woman who took it readily.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown that at you right before you left for your not-a-date. Usopp’ll be alright, I think. He seemed fine at the funeral, and I think Sanji set him up with some supplies. I’m worried, but… but he’ll be alright. You shouldn’t worry, either,” the navigator crossed the tiled room to stand at the vanity behind the other woman.

“That’s good to hear,” Robin offered with one distant nod.

“You look great,” Nami attempted to change the subject back to something more fun. “Whoever this guy is, he’s getting damn lucky.”

The archeologist chuckled softly, “I hope so. Will you cover for me, just for tonight? I don’t want Sanji to worry.”

“Of course, girl! Everyone’s dead asleep, anyway, no one will notice you’re gone. But in exchange, you need to give me deets tomorrow. And cash. You’re buying my silence. I only take big bills.”

“I’ll see what I can find, but I’m fairly broke at the moment,” the dark haired woman shrugged with light joviality.

“Ugh, aren’t we all? Maybe you could rob this mystery guy! Especially if the dick sucks.”

They giggled in the warm bathroom. Robin ran one last set of checks. Teeth, hair, eyeliner, mascara, gloss, blush, clothes, perfume. Everything where it should be, with a little extra for a good impression. Hopefully he was smart enough to bring the condoms himself; she didn’t even know where to go about trying to buy some at this hour in this city. Hopefully he was smart enough to bring his penis this time, too.

“Alright. I’m going to go. I’ll be back before sunrise… I think,” she took a deep breath and tried to steel her nerves. What was she so nervous about? It would be fine. Most likely, at least. And if things went bad, she could handle herself and get out of there like she always did. Shaky legs stood and made their way out of the bath room without her consciously directing them.

“Have a good time! Don’t get pregnant!” Nami waved after her.

The older woman crossed the dark sleeping quarters like a creeping cat. The captain, the cook, and the doctor were piled together between two bunks. They snored soundly and did not stir as she passed. The resting figure next to the door, however, raised his head as she grabbed for the handle.

“Have fun,” Zoro scoffed, though it was softened with a knowing grin.

“I’m just getting some air,” Robin whispered low as to not wake the others.

“Yeah, tell ‘Air’ to not try any shit or we’ll fuck him up.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” she smiled.

The swordsman nodded once, adjusted his grip on all three katanas, and relaxed once more against the wall. “Good,” he growled before falling back into his meditative trance.

It took a bit of effort to keep the door from slamming too loud behind her, but once the woman passed beyond the threshold, she was free. Crisp night air met her flushed cheeks. The storm in her belly and the creatures crawling around inside her chest did not cease, though that didn’t really concern her any more. There was no room to be nervous. Worst case scenario, she’d have some fun. Best case scenario, she’d have the time of her life. It was casual, she was pursuing what she wanted, and that was it. Easy like a Sunday morning.

Robin left Dock One behind her and wandered out over the city’s canals. She wasn’t precisely sure what she was looking for or how she was planning on finding him. Her eyes stayed sharp and she kept an ear (many ears) out to make sure she wasn’t followed by her snooping crew. A big, stray cat leaped off of a trash can and the woman jumped at the noise, interrupting the calm night in the city. She hadn’t realized quite how tense she’d grown until the bubble had popped. The next breath to fill her lungs was deep and refreshing.

“Oi oi, lady, ya gotta be super careful. There’s some real thugs and perverts that wander around these streets this late,” called the shadow of a man that rose from a stoop.

The archeologist turned to face him, unflinching in the darkness. “Well, I have explicit written permission from the head of the pervert thug society that says I can wander around whenever I want,” she bit back.

“Ah damn, I gotta stop handing those out so liberally.”

“Oh, so this is how you treat all the girls?”

“Only the super cool ones.”

Franky hopped down the stairs two at a time to meet her closer at eye level. He had clearly taken the same opportunity to refresh as she had. Blood had been washed out of his hair, a bandage had been applied to the gash above his eye, and his shirt had been exchanged for a different gaudy button up. So he hadn’t been kidnapped in an ill-timed costume, he just dressed like that. She didn’t mind. At least it’d be easy to discard. One big fist held out a parchment paper roll and Robin frowned at the sight.

“I thought it was clear that this isn’t a date.”

“Yeah, well,” he waved her trepidation off, “they’re not flowers in like a date-y way. Y’see, its this super complicated story but this guy I know, he just had to sell all his flowers by midnight, and I’m a nice guy so I bought the last of them. So I’ve been sitting here for the last hour thinking ‘wow I wonder if any super hot chicks that like delphiniums are gonna wander by and relive me of this burden.’ Plus, you had a rough few days and I thought… I dunno what I thought. I thought ‘a you when I saw ‘em, is what I thought,” the cyborg kicked at the gravel with uncharacteristic bashfulness.

“Your sacrifice knows no limit. See, I knew you were sweet,” Robin shook her head with a smile, accepting the outstretched offering with only minimal hesitation. It was a simple bunch of purple clusters, but the gesture still made her smile.

“Just don’t be spreadin’ a rumor that I’m a softy, ‘kay?”

“Well, then don’t be soft.”

For a brief moment, Franky looked like he wanted to lean down and kiss her in the street. He shook his head to himself and grabbed her hand in his instead. Those big, iron fingers pressed into her palm with a firm squeeze. The two set off, ducking though the back alleyways with quick steps. Pollinators in her throat fluttered again as he pulled her down dark, cobblestone streets. She followed his lead, infinitely more of a stranger to the layout of his home town.

“Where are we going?” The woman asked as they passed through a little square lined with fountains.

“Headin’ to a bar. It’s not super far away.”

“Any bar? We’ve walked by a few.” Her eyes scanned the streets. Crowded late night dives weren’t completely her scene, if she could avoid them. Plus, if this was supposed to just be a hookup, she would have expected something with a bit more comfort and a little less alcohol.

“It’s a specific bar. You’ll see. Those bars all have substandard mop closets. I’ve fucked in practically all the cupboards in this city, I got ‘em all ranked on a list. Nothin’ but the best for you,” the tall man laughed with a cheeky glance over his shoulder.

“And here I thought you were just going to take me back to your place.”

“Well,” he slowed and put his  free hand on his hip, “Normally I would. But your friends blew it up. And my backup place got trashed. So we’ve got to get a bit creative and take something back for ourselves. Here!” Franky pointed to a little shopfront, still boarded up for the storm that had already passed.

“Oh, did they? And what could you have possibly done to incur their wrath? It takes quite the mess to anger the captain like that,” she laughed. The inciting incident would have undoubtedly been the attack on their sniper, if Nami’s story was to be believed at face value. Of course Luffy had not let that slide. Or the swordsman. Or the cook, for that matter. The historian watched his body language to see how he responded to the prompt.

The big man shrunk his shoulders like a guilty dog and made his way to the locked entrance. “Oh, uh, I definitely created that super huge mess all on my own. But I’m workin’ on a way to get it cleaned up, I think.”

He rattled the door but the lock wouldn’t budge. The cyborg took a step back and dropped a shoulder, like he was preparing to break the wood down. Robin caught his collarbone with an extra hand and placed a finger to his lips. This operation would take far more delicacy. She marched up to one of the windows and peered through the slats, trying to get a lay of the interior. The bar was dark and empty, but she could make out the shape of the front door and all of its numerous dead-bolt locks. The woman crossed her arms, summoning several hands and a few eyes to pick apart the locks from the inside. By the time she had walked back to her companion, the establishment’s door swung wide open.

“Maybe you should spend less time getting messy, then,” she smirked before swaying into the dark doorway first. Many fingers beaconed for him to follow. The cyborg shook himself out of his slack-jawed stupor and hurried in behind her.

The hands that opened the door locked it back up once the two were inside. Robin set her flowers down on a high top and paced a lap around the empty bar like a cat surveying its territory for a good spot to curl up.

“This is that bull man’s pub, isn’t it?” She thought aloud as she investigated.

“Yeah, no one’s seemed to have gotten the memo he’s not coming back yet, so I guessed this place would be super ideal for, uh, not going on a date at.”

Franky slid behind the bar top, looking with intent for a way to control at least some of the lights. He found his goal and flipped a handful of switches, settling on a dim incandescence that still felt dusky but allowed them both to see. Robin kept poking around through the work station, now assisted by the artificial light.

“No cash in the till. That’s too bad, I owe Nami,” she frowned. The drawer under the register didn’t have much treasure to offer either, simply a loose collection of bar-related sundries. Long lost sunglasses, lucky dice, broken darts for the board, napkins, coasters, and a faded pack of playing cards. A sprouted hand took the cards out and threw them on the bar top, leaving the rest behind.

“Yeah, looks like he wasn’t planning on coming back,” Franky shook his head. He flipped the tap handles down, but they only dribbled out whatever remnants had been left in the tubing. The man frowned and climbed under the back cabinet, looking through the employee-side keg storage.

Robin took a seat on one of the barstools, though she leaned forward a bit to keep him in her sights. Two extra hands pulled the deck of cards from their box and began to absentmindedly shuffle the set. Franky rummaged down in the storage space a little longer. Her eyes couldn’t help but drift to his bare legs and butt that protruded out of the cabinet. She visually caressed the shape of his rear, following the lines and folds of his hips. The spandex covering them shifted slightly and exposed a little extra. A hand blossomed from the cabinet and reached for him like she wanted to caress the soft flesh, but she thought better of the overt contact. Not just yet. Later, perhaps.

“Like the view?” He was muffled by the scraping of a barrel he pulled from far in the back. He wiggled his ass before shifting his weight back on his calves.

“I- wha- I wasn’t- you- I—,” she stammered with a blush. The man laughed as he stood up, pulling the keg free.

“Oh, I was just bluffing, didn’t realize you were actually looking. Good,” he smirked and his eyes gave her a once over in return. The woman’s blush deepened.

The cyborg reached down and pulled a device connected to a series of tubes out from under the counter. He slid the gasket into place and tapped the keg with a pop and a shimmy. One of his big hands opened the faucet to burp it, and a stream of foam splashed along the work surface. He took a jump back to avoid the spray, but one of the woman’s phantom limbs was already catching the froth in a mug. She closed the tap handle again once the dark beverage itself began to flow and placed her cup of bubbles to the side.

“Nice catch,” Franky winked. He kept doing that, why did he keep winking? It made her flustered every time. That’s probably why he repeated the action. There was no subtlety to his flirtation. He was playing games with her, trying to see how far she could be pushed. The cards shuffled with another cut, another thwip.

The man ran his eyes over her from the other side of the bar and subconsciously pursed his lips. Something zipped though the air, a nameless frequency that made her pulse quicken. Robin’s line of sight drifted to the bottles behind him, searching for something to cool her parched tongue. The man followed her glance. It seemed as if tearing his eyes off of her took a great amount of effort.

“You want a drink? Whatcha orderin’?” He leaned back, rear to the bar top, arms folded as he scanned the variety of liquors.

“Hmm, what’s the bartender’s specialty?”

He took a step toward the shelves to investigate up close. Metal fingers lightly traced bottles, a gentleness of touch on crystal betraying their hardened nature. He grabbed a top shelf spirit and pulled it down, his other hand reaching for two barreled glasses.

“Uhhhhhh, two rum and colas, coming right up.”

Franky pulled the cork from the rum bottle and eyeballed a heavy pour into each glass. He topped each beverage with the foaming cola from the soda keg he’d just tapped. The cyborg handed off the other fizzing cup and leaned against the bar top, facing his companion. As she lifted her beverage higher, he knocked their glassware together with a clink. Some of the mixed drink overflowed back on his hand and the man raised two fingers to his mouth to clean them off before he could get sticky. Sapphire eyes met his dark ones, catching the way his tongue swirled between the digits. Something stirred deep in her belly.

“Is this the only drink you know how to make?” Robin laughed through the flush, raising an eyebrow before taking a deep drink.

“Pretty much. Though I make a super mean piña colada. But I can’t find the fed’s blender. Bet the bastard took it with him,” he shrugged and leaned forward onto his forearms.

Eyes locked together, though mouths stayed preoccupied in mutual refreshment. In only a few swallows, the archeologist could already feel the strong rum begin to tingle in her toes. The buzzing of the drink ran up her legs and filled her core.

Thwip, the cards shuffled again.

“So, what’s your game?” Franky asked. She wasn’t sure which game he specifically meant, but the flick of a glance to the cards in her hands demonstrated that the question was much more literal.

“Mmm,” she caught herself, halfway through a sip. A bead of the mixed drink lingered on her bottom lip, but before she could wipe it away, he ran a big thumb over the soft skin. The man raised the pad of his digit up to his mouth and licked it clean like he had with his other fingers. The generally composed woman blinked twice and stammered, mind going blank.

“We don’t have to play if you don’t wanna,” he laughed, seemingly proud that he had flustered her successfully.

Robin shook the flurries from her head. “Blackjack,” she answered with newfound resolution.

“Sounds good. Deal me in. You the House?”

She nodded once and gave the cards one last thwip, “Of course. Though I will warn you, I’ve been living in a casino for the last few years. What’s the wager?”

“Uhhhh fuck, I dunno. I’m super broke.”

“Oh really? I heard a rumor you were a millionaire.”

“Shit, not any more I’m not!” He laughed.

“The fleeting nature of ill-gotten gains…”

“Says the chick who was living in a casino. Look, I get it, we all got our vices. A good gamble’s always gonna be my weak spot, too.”

“No,” Robin laughed and burned the top card before dealing two out to them each. “I wasn’t the mark, I was the House. And you know what they say.”

“That a gal with a hundred hands is super good at cheating?”

“I would never,” she sang sweetly. The eyes had already blossomed on the back wall over his shoulder to spy on his hand. He had a terrible opening set. A shame.

“We could always strip?” Franky offered with a bluff of confidence for his cards’ sake.

“Oh, but that’s no fun. We’d be done in two rounds,” the woman laughed with a flickering eye to his swimsuit.

“Hey! I could always pull through on top. Love a super powerful underdog story. Hit me,” metal knuckles rapped the bar.

She dealt him one more and turned another card over in front of herself. “I doubt it, and I’d want to keep this game going just a little longer than that. How about this-“

He tapped the counter again and she issued him one more. Damn, that ace had turned the game around in his favor, and she dared not draw any closer to the limit herself. Already lost. Maybe he was a perfect underdog, after all.

“—What if the winner gets to ask the loser one question? Everything on the table.”

“Uh, that sounds like shitty date icebreaker-y stuff.”

“Then don’t ask terrible first date questions. Where’s your sense of… curiosity?”

“Fine!” The cyborg laughed and threw down his cards. Twenty to her nineteen. “What is your favorite color?”

“I said don’t ask terrible questions. Purple.”

“Uhhhh, no, I’m curious to know if I guessed right earlier. And I totally did!” He grinned wide with a glance to the little bouquet.

“Hm,” she chuckled and cleared the cards. One more burned. Four more divvied up.

The House won with a queen and an ace. He couldn’t even get close.

“Too bad,” Robin gave a look of faux concern. “So what’s your vice?”

“Easy. Betting on backstreet yagara races, shitty fast food, and demonic women.”

“Oh, so he’s a masochist.”

“Are my perversions really that visually obvious?”

She didn’t answer, just laughed, cleared the cards, and started the game anew.

Shuffle. Burn. Deal. Hit. Hit. Hit. His hesitant expression. Hit. Bust.

“Fuck,” he whined at the next loss.

“What do you do for a living?” The woman asked next

“Uh, shit. Lotta stuff. I broker recycled material sales to Galley-La, I run a club out of my living room on the weekends, and I bounty hunt when the cash is low.”

“Damn. I’d better watch my back, then, since you’re so broke. You can buy a lot of terrible fast food for seventy nine million beri,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, that’s my plan. I sprang you from prison so that I could seduce ya, catch you when your guard is down, and get the cash myself. Is it working so far?” Franky asked with a sip of his drink.

“Well, we’ll just have to see how successful the seduction is.”

Shuffle. Burn. Deal. Hit. Hit. Stand. The House still took the win, but just barely. 

“You’re totally cheating! I knew it!” He threw up a hand is exasperation.

“No, I’m not. How would I cheat at this?” Robin raised three hands defensively. The extra eyes helped her know what he was playing with, but it didn’t change the outcome of the cards. “Hm… Is your side work as a bounty hunter why you assaulted our beloved sniper?”

The cyborg retreated with a much more serious frown. “That’s a low blow. Uh, kinda but not really. Like, yeah I’m the unofficial main guard against pirates here, so when I heard that a crew came into town loudly waving around a few hundred mil, I took the bait. Didn’t stop to interview the pirates about their nuanced moral compasses before I acted, but I definitely took it too far. Went for what I thought was the lowest hanging fruit, and that clearly came back to bite me in the ass. But he and I had a talk last night, I know I fucked up. That kid’s super cool, I can see why you all care so much about him. He’s got a lotta heart. If he doesn’t join back up with your crew by the time you guys leave town, I’m sniping that sniper for myself. That’s my bro now, if he’s stayin’ here.”

The pirate smiled, satisfied with his answer. The churn still made her feel a little queasy, but the nuance and the appreciation helped to smooth out a lot of the friction. He saw it. He understood. She exhaled and relaxed another degree. A hand sprouted and rubbed between his shoulders.

Shuffle. Burn. Deal. Franky with a natural twenty one. He raised both fists and cheered at the win. A second drink was poured into his glass. The cyborg pointed at her unfinished beverage in silent offer but she shook her head.

“Uhhhhh,” he thought as the cola tab was pulled down, “what’s the baddest thing you’ve ever done? Like are you actually a wanted pirate chick or was the whole persona a farce by the gov?”

“Oh,” she chuckled, though the darkness of regret lingered behind her eyes. “No, I organized a complex psyop, military coup, and long-form misinformation campaign to stoke a civil war in a well sized kingdom.”

“Shit, no fucking way?! When?”

“Hmmm, how long has it been… four months ago?”

He practically spit his new drink all over the bar top, “Are you serious? You were overthrowing a kingdom just a few months ago? Damn. What stopped you? Why aren’t you like a queen ’n shit now?”

“Who do you think stopped it,” the archeologist smiled and nodded her head vaguely in the direction she thought the company quarters was back in.

“Those dudes? Daaaaaamn. Howdja start rollin’ with them if you were a super bad guy?”

“I think you’ve surpassed the one allotted question. But I will say,” a blossomed hand traced the hairs on his forearm, “they do have an incredible knack for forgiveness.”

“That’s… that’s good to know,” the man nodded quietly.

Shuffle. Burn. Deal. Hit. Hit. The House bust.

“Fuck, uhhhhh,” Franky looked her up and down, metal fingers drumming on the table. “How do your hands work?”

“Oh, I don’t know if anyone’s ever asked me that. Hm. It’s sort of hard to explain, I’ve been able to do this since I was a young child so it’s more or less second nature. But if I can see a surface and picture it in my mind, then I can extend myself through it. It feels just like reaching out for anything else,” she demonstrated by picking up her drink with one hand, her cards in a second, and her bouquet across the room in a third.

“That’s gotta like, change how you conceptualize space, yeah? Like any room you’re in is almost a part of you?” He thought, mind whirring and arms crossed.

“Yes, a bit. Spaces as well as anything within them. Sometimes I feel a lot… fuzzier than a normal person. Like I’m not in my skin like other people are, if that makes sense.”

“And you can grow them on people too, yeah? So you can… reach through me?” The cyborg cocked his head. To back up his point, two tan arms sprouted from his shoulders and ran their way through his hair.

“Mmm hmm. I am very aware of your body as something I can extend myself through. Everyone’s bodies. But you’ve got quite a lot of real estate,” Robin laughed.

“Huh. Weird.”

“Weird?” She froze the many touches.

“No like, good weird. Cool freaky. I like it. A lot,” he rubbed his head against her palms again as if to prod her into continuing the contact.

“A-alright. But… it isn’t just my hands. It’s all of me. Is that too weird?”

An eye, an ear, a nose, and a mouth temporarily bloomed on the sticky bar surface. As quickly as they had appeared, they fluttered away again in a burst of petals before he could get too scared.

“O-oh! Whoa! That’s super cool. No fuckin’ wonder you’re super good at cheatin’ at cards. You’re like, an all-seein’ master eves dropper?”

“Something like that. I do have a bad habit of keeping tabs. That makes me sound a bit paranoid, but it’s more of a safety precaution. Your defense of me to the mayor was very kind, even if his hesitancy was justified.”

“Yeah, totally. Any day. I dunno what his problem is. It was just like, what, a half dozen shots to the chest? WAIT!” Two steel prostheses slapped the counter in excitement. “Can you do it with your-,” he pointed one hand to his pectorals and one hand between his legs.

“That’s enough questions, I think.”

Thwip to shuffle

“Oh, she totally can,” he whispered to himself. The gears of a genius, perverted brain were ground hard. The cyborg stared off into space. His jaw fell slightly agape, eyes glossed over, and he nodded slowly to himself. A million questions sat on the tip of his tongue, but he held them in place. Awe was replaced by a devilish smile. Franky took a long sip of his drink and leaned back into her personal space on the other side of the bar. He smelled like spiced rum and cola. Lemon and clove and fermented molasses.

“Nico Robin, I think you’re about to change my whole fucking life.”

“Oh, am I? I thought this was a casual affair.”

Shuffle. Burn. Deal. Hit. Hit. Bust.

“Well, there goes my winning streak,” Franky rolled his eyes.

“Is two a streak?”

He winked.

“How do your hands work?” She asked with a trace over one of his tattoos.

“What, you want the whole lecture series? Or are you about to tell me you have a doctorate in engineering I didn’t know about. That wouldn’t super surprise me.”

“I could find time for the lecture if you really needed it. But you can’t explain any of it simply?”

“Ha, fine. Maybe you’ll get the full break down one day. Uhhhh. Shit, okay. So I got an elbow disarticulation on each arm, and a knee disarticulation on each leg. The prostheses do not remove, so don’t ask to see that. Uh, there’s an interface plate where the synthetic sensors connect to some pretty raw nerves. Hurts like a motherfucker so don’t play with my elbows too much. I can move my hands with my brain, but it’s not as fast as like, when I had squishy limbs. I’m totally used to the delay by now, though. My reflexes are decent. Uh, I dunno what else. The guns feel a lot like firing a regular gun, just without the tactile feedback of the trigger pull.”

“Can you feel with them?” More fingers added to the tracing motion.

“Eh, kinda? Like, I got a net of contact sensors in the skin layer, but they kinda suck. So I know you’re touching me right now, but that’s mostly because I can see you doing it and my mind fills in the rest. Temperature is harder, but I don’t burn my hands when I take shit out of the oven,” he laughed.

“Would it… be rude to ask why you did it?” Robin hesitated.

“If you were a stranger on the street, it’d be super rude, ha. But you should probably know before this, uh, goes any further. It wasn’t in like, my long-term life plan. I got in my accident and it was this or stay how I was. And in a way I'll sorta always be stuck like that, like my legs ain’t regrowin’ any time soon. It’s all me, but I definitely got bits that are more me than others. Survivin’ in this hell of a world day to day as a deaf, blind, nonverbal, quadra-amputee is pretty fuckin’ rough, so I made the tools I needed to get help me through it. It ain’t easy, it hurts like hell, and I gotta keep an eye on my life support to just not fuckin’ drop dead. You think the gun arms are a lot, you should take a peek under the hood. That’s a fuckin’ mess in there. But I make do. I have fun, I enjoy life’s simple pleasures.”

“Gambling, fast food, and demonic women?”

“Two out of three in front of me ain’t a bad deal,” he laughed. “And the third’s just down the street.”

“You must have an odd relationship to your body too, yes? To be yourself but also almost… pilot yourself? It’s almost as if you’re two different people at the same time.”

“Yeah, a bit. I gotta put more conscious effort into doing things that are super easy for other people. But my relationship to Me was already pretty fucked before the accident. Rebuilding just gave me to opportunity to… become the self made man I always wanted to be. If that makes sense.”

“Hm. Fascinating. What about-.”

“Oi oi oi, you’re hittin’ your question cap. Deal up,” Franky tapped the stack of cards.

Robin laughed but conceded.

Shuffle. Deal. House with the natural Blackjack.

The cyborg bristled, starting to feel like a bit of a sore loser.

“Aight. What’s the question?” He pulled back, palms splayed, wincing in anticipation of whatever she was about to poke at next.

“Did you find your penis?”

The way he puffed his cheeks and leaned against the back wall told her everything she needed to know. That was disappointing. Hm. What to do now…

Franky averted his eyes and crossed his arms. “No,” he grumbled, “I got back to my place but it was even worse than I remembered it being. My shit’s buried under a lot of rubble, and I won’t be able to properly check it out until the sun’s up. Sorry. But uh,” he caught her defeated expression, “but I wanna still get with you, if you’d have me. I want you to feel nice. You seem like you had a rough few days, and if this can be a bright spot, then I’ve done my job. This kind of stuff’s fun for me, even if I’m not gettin’ off. I like it.”

“You? Like sex?” Robin raised her eyebrows into her bangs. She still appeared hesitant, but her lighthearted lilt seemed to take some of the tension out of the air.

“Life’s little pleasures. It’s a favorite pastime. Or at least it used to be,” the cyborg shrugged.

Extra hands moved the mess of cards out of the way and the demon woman hoisted herself to sit on the bar top directly. The wooden surface was clean, but the eternal residual stickiness of spilled beer stuck to the exposed skin on the back of her thighs. She stayed facing the man behind the work station, her legs dangling over the socially assumed barrier of server and served.

“What about the game?” Franky asked as she occupied his territory. He leaned forward just to pick his drink up before leaning back against the shelves of liquor bottles.

“We’re done playing.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

There was a beat of silence. That unnamed wavelength filled the air once more. It called to her, pulled her in closer. She was tempted to chase it to its source.

“I like the frequency you run at,” the woman crooned, adjusting her perch. Knees splayed just a little.

“Yeah? I think you’ve got a super radical vibe yourself.”

She laughed as one of her hands sprouted to trace down his face from his temple to his brow line. Several more played comfortably with the long strands of his erect updo.

“No, no,” Robin clarified, “I mean physically. The hertz you discharge.”

The cyborg laughed and whispered into his drink, “heh, discharge.”

A phantom hand slid from between his eyebrows and down the bridge of his nose. He sighed into all the contact, relaxed by the fingers that riffled through his turquoise mane. Ever since their earlier exchange in the ship’s closet, the archeologist had been itching to reencounter the novel sensation she’d observed. Her fingers made conductive contact with the dull chrome prosthesis in the middle of his face.

The buzz from his nose wasn’t excessive, he was just barely vibrating with mechanical energy. However, the connection between the electrified man and her skin opened a new avenue for electrons to flow through. She hummed, reminded of the sensation of the radio being turned on but silent. That unnamable charge in the air emanated from his face, but she could tell it was simply the bare conduit for something that originated from much deeper in his core. Her hands felt like jumper cables, like the flow could extend through her by proximity and one day build to a jolt if kept untamed. Red to positive, black to ground. The fringe framing her face lifted ever so slightly the longer she maintained the flow, invigorated by the static between them.

“Do you think you would be capable of running at one of the vibrational frequencies that emulsifies human organs? Or would it emulsify your own in the process?” Robin inquired. Her fingers drew runes over his metalware.

“I- uh- what are you talking about?”

“You!”

“Me?”

“The way you buzz.”

“Do I buzz? I think you’re buzzed.”

“You can’t feel it? Hm, that would make sense in a closed circuit, I suppose. No one’s ever told you before? It’s quite fascinating. I can’t get enough of the sensation.”

“Nah, no one’s really gotten this close since uh… the accident…” he trailed off. A big hand raised to meet where she touched his face, confusion caught between his grasp and his brow. The cyborg prodded his own sinuses, looking for the electromagnetic pulse that the archeologist had picked up on. Phantom limbs that traced over the surface broke contact with the exposed metal on his face and shifted to the back of his hand.

“Hm, it isn’t as strong here,” she postured, “You’re well insulated. Is that why you don’t get cold?”

“I get cold. Sometimes,” he shivered at her soft contact. The cyborg twisted his hand over, the much smaller fingers tracing from his knuckles to his palm. It followed back and forth along the fold lines. Heart, fate, head, life, and back around again. More limbs sprouted to outline his tattoos and prickle the hair on the back of his arms.

“I like it,” Robin sighed, leaning forward and taking another sip. She beaconed with a real finger for the man to step into her space, and the hands that had been playing with his body prodded for him to advance. Franky took the step forward, closing in the space. Both of her legs wrapped around the sides of his waist. Her seat atop the bar kept her eyes fairly close to his level.

She raised her drink to her lips one more time, finished the last of the liquid, and slid the glass down the bar top. His eyes never left her face, already trained to follow the movements of her mouth. Robin looked to the side and picked up a clean, empty wine glass. A nail tapped the side and the glass rang out in the quiet bar. She hummed and nodded, happy with the sound it made, and turned to hold the flute up between his eyes. Slender, manicured hands poised themselves at the base of the stem and tipped the glass to make light contact with the tip of the man’s nose.

The rim of the crystal resonated with his frequency the moment it touched him, letting out a high, clear tone that quickly enveloped the pair like a bubble. The sound never faltered or changed pitch. It penetrated through the dim light, filling the entire tavern with song. A constant hum. The lingering toll of a bell. A ringing in the ears after a gunshot.

Franky whispered a quiet, “oh”. His eyes were full, though a bit crossed as he tried to look between the woman and the cup. The cyborg pursed his lips and looked for his next words. “You like this?”

“Oh, yes,” she melted, “I think it’s fascinating. I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“There’s not a freak like me in this big, blue world.”

“Now, that’s not what I said.”

The air was heavy and the tone of the wine glass had practically faded to white noise. He leaned in slowly and kept his eyes in contact with hers through the crystal. Both his hands rested on the countertop, her thighs wrapped around him. Thumbs traced along the hem of her skirt. The resonance was a hypnotic siren, drawing him in closer and closer. Blossomed fingers ran up the cervical curve of his spine and curled into the segments of his hair at the nape of his skull. Franky closed his eyes gently and his lips parted in relaxation.

The ringing sound became dampened, muffled, and then ceased altogether, like a burning wick running out of oxygen. He looked back down through his long lashes for the source of the silence. Robin’s face was now so close that her nose had mirrored his against the rim of the glassware and her soft cheek absorbed all of his ambient resonance. It was her turn to let out a little exclamation of surprise as she realized just how close their faces had gotten.

“You- you like how I… buzz?” His words fogged the delicate crystal. Robin nodded into the cup, closing the gap between their foreheads. The wine glass now acted as the only wedge between skin. The experiment had grown obsolete.

“So then, Miss Nico Robin, what is it you want to do about it?”

She gasped, one big hand at her side traveling to her waist. Deep breaths raised her chest higher. Her bangs ticked her brows as they compressed against his forehead. She tried to swallow but the dryness had returned; the archeologist feared that she would not find reprieve in alcohol this time.

A blossomed hand reached from the void and pulled the wine flute out from between them. The glass chalice was tossed somewhere in her periphery but she had little mind to notice the sound of it shattering. Barrier-less, there was nothing to stop the gravity between them, like the moon pulling the tide.

The electric buzzing of his nose filled her whole perceived world once more as the skin of her cheek made live contact. Everything charged around her in an addicting blaze. The entirety of her maxilla fired like a nerve back into her brain and down her spine. Parched lips slowly followed next, folding her fully into the conduit system. Real hands wrapped tightly around dense trapezius muscles, partitioning skin and collar.

He kissed her in a manner entirely differently to any that they had shared in the dark closet just a few hours before. It was not the exploratory pulls she had presented as she tied him to the walls, nor was it the fevered embrace he had seized before departing. The kiss shared in the dark bar sizzled and popped like snap dragons and carbon dioxide and sea spray.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Big hands stayed in their places, one cautiously at her waist and the other resting on the wood tabletop, like he was afraid to hold her any tighter. Like she could disappear into a shower petals in the wind if he squeezed too hard.

Robin was not nearly so cautious. She summoned a half dozen hands to investigate the man, tracing patterns of muscle, scar tissue and ink. One true hand snagged around his necklace, pulling him tighter against her chest. The tall man’s entire body followed the motion, rolling against her hips that rested on the edge of the tabletop. His heels barely left the floor as he laid her lower, his hand finally moving to steady her back. A few of her own extra limbs supported the deep recline.

She gasped for a breath like she was drowning, desperate to fill her lungs while she still had the chance. Franky took the moment of pause to travel up her jaw, carving a path with the buzzing she was so enamored by from her cheek to her ear. The woman’s eyes rolled back at the sensation.

More and more and more and more of her hands wrapped around the man like she was trying to mold his crafted body herself. Palms cupped his pectorals and nails lightly ran the length of his spine. Two rested on his back side, squeezing him with a firm grip. Something deep in his chest shifted, sped up, and grew hot. Pumping pistons could be felt working overtime just under his sternum. The machine ran quick and hot. 

“Y- you don’t have to-“ he whispered into her ear, words belabored. The man groaned at the continuing, overwhelming contact. He didn’t seem particularly pleased to be stuck in the same ungratifiable situation twice in just a few short hours. Some of the more zealous hands slowed to softer touches but they did not altogether disappear.

“You—.”

“Don’ worry ‘bout me, ‘m s’per,” he buried his face into the crook of her neck and began to suck down the soft flesh. She felt the glowing trail of sparks cross her collarbone.

“But-,” the woman protested with a gasp.

“Mmmm bu’ nothin’, I ain’ c’min' t’night,” he buzzed straight into her throat, still preoccupied by her skin. The mechanical hand holding behind her slipped forwards and up along her front to trace the buttons that held her sweater fastened. The fingers on her thigh twitched higher, breaking the barrier and sliding along the underside oh her skirt. His mouth pulled away from its contact so he could focus directly on the delicate buttons he unbuttoned with one large hand.

“So forget about me, just enjoy yourself. Like I said, this is fun for me no matter what. Just wanna see you feel good,” Franky reassured with a genuine smile. His eyes were full of joy as he released button after button. The cyborg’s mouth found its way back to her collarbone while his steely hand traced around her now-exposed belly. The buzzing traveled down her bones again before resting just below her heart. She wondered if the brief arrhythmia came from his output or her own flustering. He mouthed the fabric of her bra, occasionally looking up to catch her glance with a grin.

Robin’s protestations fell on disregarding ears, so she resigned herself to simply follow the advice given and relax. A few of her hands disappeared into a flurry of petals, though some lingered to keep contouring the lines of his body, memorizing his shapes.

The hand on her stomach moved up to replace the mouth on her breast. His mouth rose to meet hers again, the heat and moisture like an oasis. The man’s hand on her upper thigh pulled out from under her clothes and readjusted to loosen the clasp. She angled herself up and the scrap of a skirt fell loosely onto the floor behind the bar. Craftsman’s fingers grooved into the low point of her hip. Her own ghostly appendages pulled her sweater off her arms and tossed the garment somewhere toward the dining room of the bar.

Franky drew back from the kiss to look down at her in awe, now splayed out in just her dark bra and panties. She was haloed by the swarm of hands keeping her from falling, and her eyes were closed gently. The dim lights were warm and soft, bouncing a glow off of her olive skin. He took his time to soak the view in, but her own sentimentality was starting to run a little dry. She knew what she wanted.

Robin pinched on his butt and peeked one eye up at him to shake the fantasies from his mind. The hand on her hips once more twisted itself into the delicate fabric and pulled gently. The devil woman sighed as the undergarment dropped to the floor, the cool night air finally offering a light release. A hand holding her up unclasped her bra, saving him the effort.

His big fingers brushed the inside of her thigh where the skin was soft and hot. Her knees jerked instinctively before legs pulled to guide him closer to his destination. The big palm on her chest splayed over both her breasts, thumbing soft circles over each pert nipple.

She opened like a flower blooming before him. Franky’s hand paused before making contact, hovering just an inch away. He adjusted himself to face her fully parallel, only the tips of their noses touching. He blinked long lashes against her cheek and kissed the spot on her nose where she had just been absorbing his charge.

“Can I?” He asked gently, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Please, yes” she dragged out with a moan, hips heaving up.

“Look who’s the impatient one now,” he chuckled.

His palm rested on her mound, thumb along her hip. Cold fingers iced her heat and she hissed at the sudden frisson. Robin was already so wet, and he traced her lips in gentle tandem. The cup of his hand rotated forward so that his thumb could swipe experimentally across her clitoris, like he was testing what would happen as he pushed each button. He pulled back from kissing the woman to watch her as she took one of his fingers. The size and the intensity of just one had her gripping around him tight. Little bubbles of joy escaped her lips as he massaged her into pliability.

She wanted to stay like this for eternity, one hand rolling her perky nipples and one working her open. A much sharper cry escaped from her swollen lips when he hit a deep nerve. The hand on his spandexed ass gripped a little too tightly. The devil herself twisted around his coaxing fingers.

He kissed her once more, licking up the soft moans. His kisses trailed down her chin, leaving little marks along her neck and collarbone. Buzzing traveled though her sternum, across one breast and arcing to the other. It traced the sensitive undersides of her bosom and down the soft skin of her stomach. Kisses and bruises etched her hips, and the sparkles traveled further to the insides of her thighs. She could feel her wetness pool as the finger inside her curled gently.

Franky now rested down on the balls of his feet, heels up and knees splayed. He paused to glow in her aura, breathing her in deeply without fully breaking the contact between his face and her leg. He sighed contentedly after a beat and turned back to kissing her thigh. His lips glided over her knee while his free hand steadied himself. He lifted her leg by her heel to meet him at his height, peppering kisses over her calf and ankle and down to the tips of her toes. When he ran out of skin, he turned to the opposite leg and worked up the same kisses in reverse. She shook around him, pleading for more, as her legs were lifted and he sped up the pace of his industrious fingers.

“You think you can take more?” He whispered into her knee. She didn’t respond with coherent thoughts, just cries for more more more more more more more.

His hand retreated momentarily and swirled around her clit. A second finger joined in, holding her pearl in light tension. They stroked down the sides of her little erect nerve and he could sense her straining even harder.

“Y-yes…” she pleaded. The two fingers trailed back down, each one tracing one of her lips.

“If it’s too much just say,” he hesitated, concerned despite her desire.

“Now,” the devil flashed through her gaze. It scared him a little. If only he’d brought his dick with him. Unfortunate.

Both large fingers moistened themselves in her nectar and made their way inside her. He was right, it was too much. The tension stung as she took a moment to get used to him pulling her in all directions from the inside. He moved only enough to keep her flowing, and she groaned to relieve some of the pressure. Franky looked extremely unhappy with her pained expression and shifted to pull himself out. She cried at the emptiness but the worries were short lived as his other hand raised to entertain her clit.

He licked her off of him, one finger at a time, his tongue slowly savoring the experience of her flavor. Robin propped herself up on the elbows to watch him better. Hands raked through his hair, pulling his head back so he could stare up through heavily hooded brows. His tongue followed the drip of liquid running down his wrist, much in the matter he had done cleaning the spilled beverage off of himself.

The cyborg’s mouth and tongue ran down each finger one last time, ensuring that both were more than well lubricated before they returned to the blossoming before him. Two dense fingers followed her lines once more before the woman nodded and he eased cautiously within her. The fit was still tight, though the added lubricant eased the movement. She cried with ecstasy at the fullness.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” he coaxed, eye level with the display. Her desperate, hazy glance stayed locked with him. Bare shoulders and belly shook with how slow his movements had become.

Franky’s mouth got back to its original job lining her thighs like he was getting paid per kiss. He smiled into her skin, joyous with the receptive noises escaping uncontrollably from her lips. Robin’s brow scrunched tight and her arms split like fractals to firmly grip the edge of her perch. The man shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to resting on his knees, almost in prayer. He distantly blew the lightest of breezes directed at the torrent of her pleasure, the chill sending an electric shiver through Robin’s whole central nervous system. She panted, slick with yearning, and more hands clawed at any scarred skin she could touch. Desperate fingers snagged in his wild bouffant. The unrefined side of the devil was beginning to show her face as she seized around his hands.

He was unrelenting, moving his markings and kisses up from her thighs back to her hips, and finally resting just under her navel. The anticipation from just his breath made her vibrate. The hand that filled her dragged down her walls with a novel friction she was still getting used to. The man pulled both fingers toward him as his mouth finally made contact with her clit, both of them supple and warm as they met. His tongue rolled and flicked across her nerve. Her ragged gasp was loud enough that two new hands emerged to instinctively muffle the sound. He chuckled low and buried his mouth deeper into her pussy.

Robin was wet and relaxed enough that there was no longer much resistance to the movements of his hand. He continued to coax her, building up a rhythm between his finger’s beat and his mouth’s melody. Franky lapped like he wanted to save every detail of the moment, from the sweat in her bangs to the taste of her softness. Her knees clamped perfectly around his head and an innumerable quantity of hands gripped every available tuft of shocking hair.

She wondered momentarily if he could run off an alternative liquid fuel, to rejuvenate from drinking her in forever. The cyborg sucked and nibbled at her clitoris with quick gestures before he pulled back and licked down lengthwise to join his fingers opening her up. Robin’s hands barely kept her quiet and her hips rolled to hit the sweetest spots. However, it was his next motion that shattered her into pieces.

As he lowered, the contact of his nose- the nameless frequency that she was so enamored by- brushed her clit and illuminated every light in her body. A zipping spark jumped from him into her. She gasped for a breath but the air was filled with static electricity. The buzzing filled deep in her core as her exposed nerve dragged along the conductive metal plate. Legs squeezed even tighter around his head as she convulsed forwards with a shout, hands over her mouth now futile. She clenched around his grip as her body exploded with pleasure. Every nerve in her system felt like it fizzed with his vibrations. Robin seized hard, all senses sacrificed as she transformed into an active conduit. The feeling was like nothing she had ever observed and the fresh sensation engulfed her from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head.

She had planned to last much longer, she had planned to keep her composition, but then again she had also planned to die that morning.The archeologist could barely piece together thoughts in her orgasmic haze. Maybe she had ended up dying after all and the glowing filament of her nerves were the catalyst.

Or maybe it was the spark of life.

Franky’s spare hand rocketed up to catch her shoulder when she fell forward, curling in on herself. Damp raven locks stuck to her neck and shoulders. Her breasts rose and fell with great effort as the rest of the world came back into focus. He ever so slowly pulled his hand out of her tight grip and his eyes scanned the workspace for clean bar rags. The cyborg wiped his hand and his mouth on the first towel he could grab, then dabbed gently at the drips of liquid that ran from her source. The rough fabric was frictious on her swollen skin and she shook with overstimulation.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Ragged breaths returned to a close-to-normal pace. Robin’s companion stood up from the sticky bar floor and wrapped two strong arms around her shoulders. She was pulled in tight to his warm upper chest, face buried between pectorals. One of his prosthesis drifted from her bare back to the top of her head and he held her close. Both bodies soaked in her glow. He pressed kisses into her crown and smiled with the pride of successfully satisfaction.

She tried to say something but the sound was far too muffled.

“Eh?” He pulled back, hands unwavering but eyes searching to meet back with hers.

“That was… truly electrifying,” the woman giggled with a cheeky smile up at him. “I- I’ve never felt anything quite like that. It was hard to contain myself, I didn’t plan on finishing that quickly.”

“Ya can’t help the fact that I’m just super good at eatin’ pussy!” Franky laughed. He looked around for his long-abandoned beverage to rehydrate and refuel. He found it and drank the remaining half cup of liquid in one long draft, swirling the drink in his mouth to cleanse his palette before swallowing.

“You’re multitalented.”

“Like a utility knife,” the cyborg winked, “If you thought it was too quick, we could keep going? Round two?”

Robin looked at him with fuzzy incredulity, still lingering in the neon afterglow. She shivered from the midnight air and sweat slicked skin that suddenly caught up to her exposed body. The man across from her slipped his shirt off and draped it over her like a garish blanket.

“What a sensation, how incredibly intense,” she mused to herself in deep reflection.

“What?!” His jaw dropped, “That was your first—? You’ve never-? I—.”

“Oh! No,” she laughed, “I have had my fair share of orgasms, just not one quite like that. I hadn’t fully realized what being with someone with your enhancements would entail.”

The expression on his face quickly shifted from shock to laughter to pride. It was clear he held his performance capabilities in high regard, and the compliments only added to his cocky attitude.

“Best cum of your life, you said it,” he joked with both hands raised in faux concession.

“That isn’t what I said,” the archeologist chuckled. She pulled his big shirt tighter around her bust.

“Top five tier placement at least?”

“Mmmmmmm….” Robin trailed off, hand tapping her chin in mock thought, “Top ten, maybe. Depending on how you count.”

Franky looked offended, “How do you count, base four? What the fuck kind of super Adonises have you been gettin’ with? I trained and honed that skill for years and I’m just barely cracking the top ten? I know its been a few years for me, but I’m not that rusty.”

“I’ve been a lot of places and I’ve met a lot of very talented people.”

“Nah, I’m not gonna be satisfied with my skills until you have at least the third best orgasm you’ve ever experienced,” he said, brows furrowing as he turned to pour himself another drink.

“You’re not going to be satisfied until you find that missing penis,” the woman teased.

He choked mid-sip on his fresh beverage, the foamy head dribbling down onto the floor. The archeologist’s laughter broke out and brightened the darkness of the bar. The man joined in the amusement, though not without a bit of envy over his inability to participate in the night’s catharsis.

“You’re super cool. Can I see you again?”

“Oh, I was counting on it. We need you satisfied at least once before I sail away. I haven’t even gotten the opportunity to attempt a spot on your list,” Robin pursed her lips and kept her eyes locked on his swimsuit.

“So, how long are you thinkin’a staying in town for? What’s the timeline to find my shit?” he asked with an amused expression, enjoying the sensual attention. The big man reclined and sipped his drink in a manner to accentuate his nearly naked body.

“Honestly, I have no idea. Everyone will need to rest, but we’re still without a ship. And, well, without money from what I understand.”

“Oh… uh… yeah,” he mumbled. Memories of the last few days caught up to the both of them. A twist of guilt mixed into his cocktail expression. After a moment of deep thought, the cyborg shook his head. He gulped another mouthful of his drink down with a grimace.

“What are you thinking about?” The archeologist gripped the edge of the bar top and slid off of it. Her feet plopped onto the cold floor and she stepped gingerly to avoid the mess and debris they’d already created. Franky looked up at her, so distracted by his own mind that he’d nearly forgotten the state of her appearance. She slid up next to him, still fully bare save his brash garment draped dangerously over her biceps. Several hands snaked around his waist and he instinctively wrapped one arm around her shoulders. It was a comfortable, casual, easy embrace. They both stared out at different horizons, quiet as he thought on how to respond to her question.

Franky chewed on the inside of his cheek and his free hand ran through his hair. He exhaled with a sigh before speaking hesitantly, “So, I might have something that could possibly maybe turn into a bigger idea that may eventually grow into a plan, if it’s lucky. Been thinking on it all day. It would solve a few problems super easily. But now I’m kinda realizing that the sooner I help you guys, the sooner you leave. So the Selfish Bastard devil on my shoulder’s telling me not to do it. But, then again, I super fuckin hate that guy and that instinct’s what got me into this mess in the first place.”

Robin frowned at his rambling thoughts and looked up at his face. “Don’t go falling for me that quickly after just a day. I don’t want this getting overly complicated,” she stated firmly.

“Nah, it’s all good,” he sighed with resolution, “I’m gonna do it, I just need to do like, a super amount of research in the morning. The culmination of everything I ever made, every idea I ever had. Actually it might be nice having an extra hand around. I think my book collection got fucked when the house exploded. If you wanted, I mean.”

She poked his cheek with a third appendage. He laughed gently and leaned down to kiss her, soft and slow. Lips parted from each other, but lingered on the skin. The historian thought through his offer. “Help you organize your library?” She mused, “you really do know how to turn a woman on. What is it you’ll be researching?”

“Uh, boat tech. Gonna go back to m’roots, I think. One last time. Is your captain still out cold?” He asked.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I’ll have to run everything past him first, I guess. But if this works, I think it’ll be a super plan. The perfect plan. And maybe… I dunno. Maybe they’ll think a little better of me. One big ass atonement, or somethin’.”

The woman placed her chin against his chest, looking up. Fingers danced along the seam-like scar that ran down his sides. Skin to skin, the cyborg’s lower abdomen chilled the space just under her bust. Ambient refrigeration hardened her nipples and prickled her flesh.

“And how long would this plan take you?” She crooned.

“All on my own?” Franky brought his chin down to lock into her gaze again. His eyes couldn’t help but stare at the way her bust pressed against him. He cleared his lusty thoughts to do some quick math before continuing, “I can do it in three weeks, maybe a month? Not super ideal, but I could pull it off.”

“One month in this city doesn’t sound terrible.”

Franky’s lips tightened as he rolled the idea around his mind once more.

“Though I would imagine,” Robin continued in her rumination, “that you’ll be very busy the entire time.”

“I… could be convinced to take breaks,” he finally smiled.

“Indulge your Selfish Bastard devil just a little every now and then?” She offered.

“Now you’re gettin it,” he laughed, sun finally breaking through his clouded mind. One of those sneaky extra hands found its way to his hair once more. “Yeah,” he muttered like he was dreaming, “thirty days to build a ship of dreams, find my dick, and give you the third best sexual experience of your life. Super achievable.”

More lithe hands wrote paragraphs over his chest. The archeologist sighed and cozied up closer, “You have some very lofty goals.”

“I thought that was your guys’ whole thing, yeah? Achieving the unachievable?”

Robin laughed as even more arms twisted around his neck. “So maybe we should be clear about what this is. I like your company, I like the way you make me feel, and I’d like the opportunity to return the favor. However, my friends don’t particularly like you, and your friends don’t particularly like me. I’m also not all that interested in dating if I’m going to leave town in a month; I don’t see where this could go long-term. No offense.”

“Nah, none taken. We’re on the same page. I’m not really lookin’ to flaunt that we’re just fuckin’. But also, this is fun and I don’t really want to stop it. So we get it out of our systems for the time being, then you sail off into the sunset and I remain a perpetual figment of your wet dreams for the rest of your life. Nothing major,” he shrugged with another wink. 

“Big talk for a man gunning for third place.”

“Oh, don’t get it twisted. I’m aiming for first, I’m just not underestimating the competition. Or your subjectivity. Like that saying, shoot for the moon and even if you miss you’ll cum among the stars,” his smiled cheekily and winked one more time. Maybe there genuinely was something wrong with his bandaged eye.

Blush spread from her cheeks and down onto her chest. She stammered, “That- that’s not it…”

They both giggled, holding each other in the dim light.

“But,” she continued after a pause to think through the ideas he had communicated, “this plan still ends with us sailing away on your dream ship without you?”

“Yeah, I’m staying right here. It’s for the best, I think. I still got business to sort out in this town.”

She chewed on his words, unsure if she agreed with the sentiment or not. Rather than mull on it any longer, she relented temporarily. Instead, Robin reached up as high as the tips of her toes could reach and kissed him softly. He reached down to cup her face in his palm as the tide of calm caresses washed over his lips. A shyness and restraint returned to Franky’s touch, though the arm around her back shifted and his draped shirt fell to the floor. He was only marginally less naked than she was, and the full body contact invigorated the majority of his pressure sensors.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

One big hand traced her exposed rib line and up her sternum. Her bare, perky breast settled into his grip with ease, like he’d designed himself to hold her. Fingers twisted and pulled around her sensitive points and the woman sucked a quick breath in.

“What was that you were saying about second round?” Robin whispered.

The man refused to break contact with her mouth as she spoke around him, his lips wandering across the smooth, mulberry skin. He simply hummed with a smile, the fry in his vocal cords making his whole upper chest vibrate.

“Are you always this gentle of a lover?” She continued her questions.

Franky pulled back slightly in shock and surprise. He looked almost hurt that she dared to still find him sweet.

“Literally no one has ever said that about me, no.”

“Well,” four hands pushed him a little more forcefully against the shelves, “then why are you holding back so much?”

Bottles rattled with the shove, many falling from the highest placements and shattering on the floor. The man’s hand that had been caressing Robin’s cheek shifted to the top of her head to make sure no glass hit her. The smell of liquor filled the air as the contents of the destroyed bottles soaked into the wood. Franky looked down at the mess nervously, but the wicked look the demon was giving him refocused his attention.

“Fine, if that’s what you want,” his tone was just a little more gruff with the adrenaline of the damage. The cyborg’s arms swept under her bare backside and lifted her off the ground. Both of her muscled legs wrapped around his waist, the chill of his abdomen barely cooling the heat that was rebuilding in her core. One of his hands stayed tightly around her thigh, the other indented his print into her ass. The next kiss was fierce and wild; hungry with intent and needy for attention. Scattered debris didn’t even phase the iron man. She held on tight around him, cocooning him in a knit of desperate limbs.

Franky carried her from behind the service counter to the middle of the bar’s seating arrangement. The hand on her rear stayed in place, but his other let go and grabbed the edge of one of the old, stained tables. He’d only meant to push it a few feet out of the way, but the forcefulness of the moment gave the shove additional velocity. The table slammed into its neighbors, splintering it in half and taking several others out with it. Phantom hands began stacking well-worn chairs to the side with considerably more care.

“Uh, I’ll fix that later.”

With a wide circle cleared on the floor, the tall man was able to slowly lower on his aching knees. The joint where his skin stopped and prosthesis began hurt from how much time he’d spent on them that day, but that wasn’t about to stop him from having a good time. His lips and tongue never slowed as he brought her down to the ground level with him. She moaned into the kiss as he kept lowering her down further and further, until her naked back was shivering against the cold timbers. He tasted of rum and caramel and cloves and her.

The cyborg covered her completely like a thick duvet. His face was so large and his hair so long that the dim light was occluded, barely only a thin turquoise cast under his canopy. His right arm propped his weight up to keep the quarter ton of hot metal and cannons from crushing her. She pulled him closer by his chain regardless, so many extra little hands helping to alleviating the pressure of holding him aloft. One of Robin’s legs slid up his bare side and he notched into place between her hips. She sighed as he ground down, momentarily half-forgetting his continuing phallic predicament.

“Now, I was bein’ super gentle ‘cos we were just foolin’ around, havin’ fun,” Franky growled into her jaw. There was a new pitch to his voice she hadn’t experienced yet, and it made her squirm with pleasure. He worked his way close to her ear and whispered low, “but if you think you can handle somethin’ harder, I’ll be sure to fuck you rough once I get my cock back tomorrow. Got a few different sizes you might like.”

The hand that wasn’t keeping him upheld traveled from her head, down her body, and rested between her legs. She shivered at the words, his lips just barely tickling her lobe. The idea of options was new and a bit enthralling. The historian didn’t know what it all would entail just yet, but her mind whirred at all the possibilities.

Franky wasted no time this round in giving her something to rub up against. The hand on her labia found the spring of moisture immediately and it was soon slick enough to press inside her once again. Robin’s eyes rolled with how good she already felt. He fit her nicely. He fit her almost too nicely.

They both writhed on the floor of the bar, mouths unable to disconnect as he massaged her open. The singular penetration of his digit felt a little empty compared to how far he had stretched her before but the new ferocity delighted her senses. The mechanical hand fucked her as if he was apologizing for not being able to do the job with his own cock. Something human definitely controlled the movements; he still twitched and pulled on instinct. Thrusts never felt rote.

He sped up to a quicker pace, pounding her opening, thumb keeping pressure on her clit. The dark part of the back of her mind reminded her that she was getting fucked by a definitional pistol and the taboo excitement made her seize a bit. She attempted to ask if it was loaded, but the words couldn’t formulate through her moans of joy.

The more relaxed she became, the higher her leg rose until it was draped flexibly over his broad shoulder. Her hips over-rotated to open as far as they could. The wide stretch spread her muscles in a delicious pull. His lips found a spot on her neck to bully, breaking blood vessels and forming deep marks. The fingers on her clitoris circled the nerve in an irregular pattern, occasionally gracing lower to use her wetness like an ink well. The atmosphere was humid and all of the oxygen in the bar felt electrically charged.

When he was out of skin on her neck to conquer, the man shifted his weight to move lower down her body. The workman vibrated with excitement to get back to his favorite task.

“You… don’t h-have t-” she tried assuring, but her voice was wispy and hoarse from throaty cries.

“Oh noooo, I get to eat more pussy?” The cyborg chuckled sarcastically as he licked down her stomach. He paused to nibble at the soft flesh, big hand still fucking in deep. “You’re kidding me, right? This is a favorite pastime!” Franky exclaimed and flashed up a reassuring smile.

“Mmmmf- then can- can we…” The fog of pleasure was too strong, the words weren’t formulating out of her wanton mouth. 

“Eh? You gotta tell me what you want,” he teased. Fingers slowed their barrage ever so slightly, in order to better hear her request. He gazed with care up the woman’s chest and into her glossy eyes.

“Flip,” was the only word she could muster. Two dozen shaky hands reached over his body. The man rolled onto his back without removing himself from inside her; his hands guided her hips to sit atop his.

“—Want to… mmmmmm… try sommmmmmthing,” Robin would have normally felt embarrassed by the ineloquence of her words, but she also felt considerably more pleasure than shame. Her bust heaved for a full breath. Hips lifted higher, releasing his hold inside as she shifted above the massive body. Her heart pounded loud in anticipation for her next position of choice.

“Wha- OH YEAH baby, climb on!” Franky’s eyes sparkled as he put together where she was going. She moved up his chest, straddling the best she could to get her legs over his shoulders.

Her thighs framed his head and neck, though she remained seated back between pectorals at first. The pilot light in his sternum kept her heat on the back burner. Extra hands grasped up from the floor, begging to make contact. They held her knees down tightly and knot into his hair. One mechanical hand reached up to hold her hip.

“Two big taps, I’m suffocating,” he mimed the action against her side. She nodded and raised herself off of his chest. His smile was mirrored back before he disappeared between tanned thighs. Her warmth lined up just an inch above his hungering lips. The cyborg took a deep breath into big lungs.

“…but I can hold my breath a long time, so it’ll be suphfmmmmmmmr,” he tried to get out before she muffled his words with her cunt.

The smooth pleasure was immediate and her head rounded back with her moans. He lapped her up, tongue exploring every inch of her vulva. It dove deep into her before returning to swirl around her clit. His spare, stickier hand rose to grip her butt where it rested just past his jaw. He massaged the flesh deeply as her hips bucked down to drag across his mouth. Light tickles from long sideburns prickled the insides of her shifting thighs. One real hand twisted into the hairline of his updo for stability.

Robin raised herself just an inch, giving the man a chance to catch his breath. His hand followed the line of her ass and up her lower back. Hips twisted to grind down once more. She lowered herself slowly now onto his nose, once again inviting the light electrical buzz to stimulate her erect nerve. The devil inhaled slowly, making sure the sensation would not preemptively bring her to climax at its premier. Again. She was overly cautious knowing how sensitive and raw it made her feel.

The frequency still made her core hum intensely with voltaic warmth. She only dared to sit on the feeling for a brief moment before she had to back off, dragging herself back down the tongue that had been exploring deep inside her. The woman’s chest heaved and a chain of extra hands extended down from the ceiling to steady her body. The pool of oceanic hair spilling out from under her mimicked the flow of liquid she felt trickle down her legs.

On extra hand of her own pulled her hair back into a ponytail and held it in place, cooling her steaming shoulders. Blunt bangs bounced as she found her rhythm. She just barely teased herself with ripple down the buzzing metal structure, then rocked backwards into the relief of the tongue. The way he moved his mouth around her and in her felt like an undiscovered language all his own, whispering long lost secrets deep inside her walls. She needed to study it expeditiously.

The pressure in her abdomen mounted and her gyrations grew more hasty. Each time she lowered her self into the contact, she lingered longer and longer, letting the electrons build around her cervix. Robin’s pants grew desperate the more unrelenting his mouth became.

The cyborg’s stamina was incredibly impressive, and the movements underneath her became rougher and wetter the more undone she grew. She was losing control and all she could do was hold on tight .

Hands that gripped her waist let go momentarily. She slowed her pace to make sure he wasn’t giving her the suffocation signal, though the mouth lapping at her did not ease. The woman could feel him fidget with his hands, neither of them touching her and the absence becoming objectionable. It felt like an eternity as he fumbled blind, though his multitasking never interrupted him drinking in as much of her nectar as he could.

Franky’s left hand lowered back down on her hips with a reassuring squeeze, mirroring the one that had vanished. The next sensation on the back of her neck made her scream in surprise and ecstasy and a bit of terror.

He’d taken the covering on his right hand off.

Buzzing engulfed her spinal cord, the exposed metal skeletal structure drawing that delightful frequency down her back. Dancing mechanical fingers pressed even more electrons into every one of her nerves, mimicking the swirling tongue that filled her. They charted her body with a more gentle precision, following the lines of sweat that carved down her muscles.

Her clit ground down on the metal of his face, the two sources of the buzz arcing through her torso like a tesla coil. That novel, electric sensation grew to be overwhelming and she could sense her climax just over the horizon. The shoulders she rested on shook and the mouth pleasuring her bubbled.

He was laughing.

The cyborg’s charged fist settled around the sculpt of her ass, tracing her with unseen runes as she had done to him hours before. None of the symbols caught in her mind’s library of language, but the haze of sex kept her academic instincts from pursuing the thought much further. His tongue licked her in one long swipe, his appetite meeting her as she rounded her hips through in peaking lust.

Sparks followed the underside curve of her bottom and glittered cosmically close to her heat. Robin raised her knees and thighs once more to gyrate against his face, but on this repetition his tongue and lips caught her clitoris and she lowered down around two galvanized fingers.

The buzz filled deep inside her, raw on her battered walls. The man’s frequency resonated with every fiber in her body. His spark filled her from the inside out. Zips tingled up her vertebral column. The flow ran through tendons to her toes. Bangs lifted in search for a way to discharge the jolt. Fizzing filled her ears, light sizzled behind closed eyes. Energy shook each cell in her body to attention.

Nothing could stop the flood now. Every gate, every wall, every barrier she had meticulously built opened in quick release. There was no controlling herself.

Climax hit her like a fucking train.

The spring that ran from her cunt grew into a river and then a tidal wave. She gushed around the face between her legs. The torrent felt unending; buzzing fingers coaxed as much as they could from her. The cyborg’s big mouth was open wide, attempting its best to drink in as much of her as he could.

She screamed with the pleasure of deep, deep, deep release. Inhibition left her soul. Robin couldn’t tell if the sound of the mechanical resonance had filled her entire temporal lobe or if it was just her own cries. The bomb went off in her core, and the explosion had left her ears ringing.

Her own personal voltage radiated from her nerves, down into her toes and back up to her flushing cheeks. The orgasm hit every corner of her flesh twice over, leaving her trembling.

The woman lost control of the hands keeping her upright, bursting into a shower of petals that scattered through her unkempt hair. She dropped onto her real arms and knees, gasping for oxygen.

Aftershocks rippled through her trembling vulnerability. Her knees convulsed under her weight. A second passed as she caught he breath before the big hand on her hip began tapping.

“Oh!” Her voice was barely recognizable, nearly gone. With great effort she swung one leg over the other and twisted off of the man’s body, limply falling to the cold floor. Her eyes peered through their post-orgasmic blur to inspect the damage she had caused.

Franky gasped for a big breath of air, but his full laugh assured the woman that no harm had been done. His face was drenched, but nothing had broken. Both hands traveled up to make a futile attempt at wiping it clear, but ultimately just rubbed the liquid deeper in his hair. A puddle spread out on the floor around him and the man made no effort to actually move.

“Damn that was radical! How you feelin’?” He beamed at the woman laying next to him. She didn’t respond, unable to move her mouth or think thoughts. The two lay in comfortable silence like both of their systems were rebooting. He watched her face with stars in his eyes, despite not reaching a conclusion himself.

“I have a question,” Robin muttered lazily. She shifted a little closer against his chest and he rolled his arm around her to support the back of her head.

“Yeah, shoot.”

“Is your safety on?”

“My what?”

She held up a limp, gun-like gesture of her thumb and finger and mimed a trigger pulling motion.

“Oh that, kinda, yeah. Won’t fire if the cap’s on, if that’s whatcha mean. Don’t worry, totally in control.”

He echoed the same gesture she had made with his free hand, aiming between his raised knees.

“See if I just— oh fuck,” He opened up the barrel of the pistol to demonstrate control, but the gun immediately went off, firing a round of bullets into the wall. The hot moan that escaped his mouth mimicked orgasm, and he flopped back down onto the floor next to her. The petit catharsis helped to clear some of his pent sexual frustration.

“Oh, that makes me feel very safe in your hands,” the grim archeologist cozied up closer.

“…’Kay, not like that. Damn that did feel super good though. Needed to blow a load one way or another,” the cyborg groaned. The air of jealousy over her intense orgasm was palpable.

Robin was already half asleep, curled up to his buzzing body. She seemed unfazed by the sound of the gunshots that had pierced the silence of the cold night. A little smile wormed across her face as she relaxed into her glow. Neither body made any effort to get up for a long, long time.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The archeologist awoke to a freezing chill that clung to her naked skin. She was exceedingly damp and she smelled like sex. Pre-dawn light filtered through the slats that covered the windows and barely illuminated the immense damage from the night.

Robin scurried to her feet with a jolt, looking desperately for her skirt, sweater and shoes. Two additional hands sprouted and began shaking the snoring man on the floor.

“Wha—,” he came to groggily.

“How long were we sleeping for? I don’t have long to get back, oh no,” she panicked. More hands and eyes bloomed in the dim light to find her discarded clothes. “I can’t let them see me like this. I can’t let Sanji see me like this, oh god. Why did I fall asleep like that?”

Franky groaned and rolled onto his legs, eyes taking in the mess as well. The cyborg walked a lap looking for wherever his shirt ended up. He slung it back on quickly and joined his companion to help her search for her underwear.

“You had fun though, yeah? That felt good?” The cyborg asked.

She froze, halfway through re-buttoning sweater buttons.

“Oh yes, that was… absolutely incredible. I had a wonderful time. Thank you.”

He smiled and started to reply with a “S-“ but she caught him in a light peck before the thought could print. Wet bangs were brushed flat with a mechanical hand and she smiled cooly over her panic.

“I can get you back in ten minutes, ignore this. I’ll take the fall for trashing the place. What’re they gonna do, call the cops? Arrest me?” He laughed. She wasn’t so sure the option was off the table.

The cyborg found what he was looking for, navigated through the broken glass, picked up her discarded panties, and handed them back with a cheeky expression. Robin blushed and slipped them back on under her skirt.

“I think this is about to be the most radical month of my life,” he beamed.

She laughed and buckled her shoes, double checking that everything had been retrieved. “I think it may be the best month of your life as well,” the archeologist teased. Extra hands found his waist and she pulled him in flush with her body one last time.

“All set? You got what you were wanting?” Franky asked.

“Mmmm, yes, I think I found what I was needing. How did you know?” she nodded. Many demonic arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in for one slow, parting kiss. Lips didn’t overstay their welcome, fully aware of the growing time limit. The woman untangled herself and walked away to grab her little bouquet, the only object in the bar the had properly remained intact.

“I’m figuring you out super quick, you’re not as hard to learn as you seemed at first. Is it cool if I come find you again tomorrow? Or like, later today, I guess. Once I find my… stuff.”

“I’d like that, yes. We’ve still got a score to settle.”

A hand snapped at the hem of his swimsuit. The cyborg shivered.

“Fuckin’ super, see you then. I’ll definitely be ready next time. But we gotta run now if we’re going to beat the sunrise.”

Franky flipped the locks on the front door and held out his hand. Robin joined him, smile buzzing in her cheeks and electricity arcing between interlocked fingers. They escaped into the early morning fog without looking back at the decimated bar. Glass was left on the floor, bullets were left in the walls, and tables were reduced to splinters, like bombs had gone off in the middle of the night. Only debris was left in their wake.

Shuffle. Burn. Deal.

Hit. Hit. Hit. Bust.

Spark. Fizz. Pop. Boom.

The House always wins.

Chapter Text

The waiter passed by the little cafe table to set down one cup of espresso and one fruity, blended beverage. He asked if anything else was needed but met immediate dismissal from the two chatting women.

“Girl, you look like shit,” Nami laughed into her smoothie.

“Well, I had a long day yesterday. And the day before that,” Robin adjusted her sunglasses and blew on her hot drink.

“Oh yeah, totally, that bruise on your neck is from the fight and definitely not from anything else.”

The archeologist shot her a look of joking scorn over the top of her eyewear, though she shifted her dark hair to cover the mark up a bit better.

“Precisely,” she affirmed, sipping her black ichor.

“You promised me deets. And cash.”

Robin mulled over the idea for a moment, internally debating how much she wanted to share. Surely the other woman would not be particularly pleased to learn the identity of her mystery man. At the same time, she couldn’t resist the inner tingle to share about a new fling.

“I wasn’t able to secure the money, I’m very sorry. He was broke, as well.”

“A deal’s a deal!” The redhead half-fumed, “I’m not asking about the gross stuff, I just want the guy’s name. And bank account information. Why’d you get with him if he’s broke? Was the dick really that good?”

“I don’t know, we didn’t… make it that far. We just had a drink at a bar. Talked. It was… it was nice.”

“Wait I thought it was literally a dick appointment? You really didn’t sleep with him on the first date? Wow, you must really like this guy,” Nami grinned. She leaned forward, chin in her hand, eyebrows raised, straw in the corner of her lips, expectant for more details.

“It wasn’t a date.”

“You keep saying that. Are you going to see him again?”

The dark haired woman blushed and sipped her coffee, “I… I think I might, yes. We don’t have any plans, but he’s got a way of showing up. Maybe a little shore leave fling would be good for me while we’re trapped in this town. It’s not something I’ve really ever done before. At least not quite like this.”

“Hell yeah! Have fun, enjoy! But I do want to meet him before we leave. He’s got to be some guy if he’s caught your eye,” the navigator elbowed her friend. “So what’s he like? Adjectives, I want adjectives!”

“He’s… tall.”

“Ooooooooooooooooooo!”

“He’s very smart, and he’s funny. I like our conversations, he’s easy to talk to. And very… unique.”

“Unique? You’ll have to point him out next time you see him. So, you didn’t bang him. Did you at least kiss him?”

“We…” Robin blushed in a manner that immediately revealed that they had. Before she could open her mouth, however, a frantic woman ran up through the cafe and joined a waiting party at the adjacent table.

“Sorry I’m late,” she apologized to her people, “the other side of town’s a total mess right now. Did you hear about what happened to Blueno’s?” The stranger’s comments caught the attention of the two nearby pirates. The older one attempted to not choke on her hot drink.

“That was that door guy, yeah? I thought Luffy took him out,” Nami hissed in a whisper. Robin shrugged in excessively forced nonchalance.

“What?! No! We were there just the other night!” The woman’s friend leaned in to chitter, blissfully unaware of the extra bodies listening in. This city seemed like one that enjoyed good gossip, and the demon of many ears was more than willing to follow the flow of information.

“Yeah, so get this. They found it like, totally trashed! Everything’s broken and no one can find him. They said he left town. But that’s not even the craziest part!”

The eavesdroppers leaned in further to catch the news.

“Oh!” Their waiter slid up to refill waters and volley back gossip, “I’ve been hearing about this all day, they think a woman might have been killed, but they can’t find the body.”

“Oh my god, what? Why? How?” The second stranger was transfixed.

“A couple of people heard her screaming and gunfire coming from Blueno’s at like, three or four in the morning. When they went later to check on it, the door was wide open, glass all over the floor, a bunch of tables were broken, and there were bullets in the walls,” the woman picked up the conversation and delivered the juicy details.

“God that poor woman!”

Robin shifted in her chair, switching which sore leg sat crossed on top.

“But,” the waiter volleyed, “here’s the weirdest part! No sign of forced entry, no blood, no body, nothing!”

“What if it was a hostage situation?”

“Or a drug deal?”

“Or a murder suicide!” the strangers trailed off in speculative theorizing.

“Any suspects yet? Is the killer on the loose?”

The waiter laughed and rolled his eyes, “Only the usual one.”

“Ugh, of course. But this just doesn’t seem like his usual motivation. Everyone liked Blueno’s! I thought he liked Blueno’s! Tiffany, you kinda know him, yeah? Does this sound like something he’d do?”

“Ugh, does the guy ever have a motivation? He’s just chaos. And don’t lump me in with him, I know him but I don’t know him know him. I’m not testifying in court over this thing!”

“Whatever. Still, shooting a woman in the middle of the night? That’s a new low, even for him. Why would Franky do something like that?”

Nami finished her drink and interrupted, “Excuse me, I’m so sorry but I couldn’t help but overhear. We’re tourists on vacation, you see. Is everything alright? Are we safe?”

“Oh miss, of course!” The waiter snapped back into his customer service voice, “Vacationers in the middle of the storm season, my condolences. Everything is fine, but do be careful if you go out late at night. There are some real characters who roam the streets.”

One of the women at the table made eye contact with the young thief and expressed genuine concern. “Just steer clear of those Franky Family guys and you should be safe. You’ll know those thugs when you see them. Like he said, real characters. Thugs and perverts, all of them.”

Robin set her empty little espresso cup down in its saucer and wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Nami made peripheral eye contact, nodded, and moved to pick up her loose shopping bags.

“Thanks for the tip!” The redhead cheered, flashing a fake but charming smile at the other group and their waiter. The two ladies stood, waved, and walked quickly down the block.

“Hang on,” the waiter frowned after they had turned the corner, “I think those tourists forgot to pay.”

Sanji stood in the door to the crew’s temporary sleeping arrangement at the docks, blocking the walkway with his knee. He didn’t look happy in the slightest to be guarding the front door from the hulking machine attempting entry.

“I told you! She’s not in, so get the hell out of here!” He yelled.

“Why can’t I just wait here for her, bro?”

“First of all, I’m not your bro. And second, you can come back later, jackass! Everyone’s still asleep and I don’t need your loud fucking mouth waking them up!”

“Come ooooon, man, you can’t even like, take a message for me? I just gotta tell Robin something super quick.”

“No way! Now scram before I call the Galley-La security force. Or better yet, I’ll kick your ass myself for all the trouble you’ve given us!” The cook lit a fresh cigarette.

“But R—.”

“Get this through your thick skull. There’s no way we’d let you anywhere near our precious Robin, got that? She just came back, you’re not going to be hurting her on my- our watch,” Sanji exhaled sharply.

“Hurt—? Hey, bro, you got me all wrong! I’d never! I was with her all day yesterday, why would I hurt her?”

“Well, it seems to me like that’s all you know how to do! So show me any evidence to the contrary and then we’ll talk, got that?” The blond man snapped. “Fucking brute,” he muttered under his breath, clenched behind his cigarette.

“What the fuck did you say?!” Franky bellowed back, now fully riled up.

“I said shut the fuck up, the captain’s sleeping!” Sanji met his volume. Neither man saw eye to eye, deadlocked in their pride and seething in their desire to keep the same woman safe.

Nami and her companion in question rounded the corner, arms full of bags from various shops. They both froze and stared at the yapping guard dogs in the dock yard. An extra hand immediately blossomed from Robin’s elbow, rubbed her temple, and shaded her eyes. This wasn’t going to end well, she could already feel it.

“What the hell are you two doing?” The navigator yelled, interrupting the boys from their beef. The cyborg and the cook immediately stopped to turn sharply at the pair of women. The pride evaporated in the presence of their audience.

“~You’re back!~” Sanji melted immediately. He sprinted in a flash to Nami’s side.

Franky, now alone in the middle of the yard, flushed in embarrassment.

“Uh, hey,” he waved meekly to both ladies, but mostly to Robin.

“Hello,” the demon responded in a flat tone. Both eyebrows raised over her sunglasses, into her bangs. The display of performative machismo between the two had not been to her liking.

“Let me take those for you!” The cook begged, trying to get the shopping bags out of the redhead’s hands.

“It’s right there, I can carry them the last few steps,” Nami gestured at their temporary sleeping quarters.

“Please?”

“Fine,” she relented with an eye roll and a smile. This was their game, one of Robin’s favorites to observe. The two practically danced around each other, playing their roles, pushing and pulling. The peacocking made her chuckle, but the navigator’s wicked look of victory made her laugh even harder. Sanji picked the shopping bags, pushed passed the big cyborg blocking the way, and disappeared into the little building.

“Hey, you!,” Nami pointed at the turquoise interloper with a tone of accusation, “Why am I hearing rumors around town that you broke into a bar, made a mess, and then killed someone in the middle of the night?”

“People make shit up about me all the time, I stopped paying attention to that crap years ago,” Franky raised his hands in defense.

“So you didn’t murder anyone?”

“Sis, the only thing I murdered last night was that p-“

Robin, standing behind the little redhead and out of her line of sight, shot daggers at him to shut up. Strike two, he better have come to deliver a very specific message. 

“—p-pillow because I went home and went straight to bed and didn’t do anything else,” he recovered, ungracefully.

“Uh huh,” Nami sounded unimpressed by the lie. She turned and walked into their living situation without another word. The archeologist trailed behind and the tall man followed them both, despite his lack of invitation. Each member of the crew, save for the sleeping captain, made themselves busy around the shack’s central dining table.

“Ugh, you couldn’t leave the Rottweiler outside?” Sanji rolled his eyes as he made space at the table.

“Hey!” He scoffed at the remark.

“Sanji, it’s alright,” Robin assured the cook. She turned to Franky and raised an eyebrow, “You came here to give me a message?”

“Uhhhh, oh yeah! So, remember yesterday on the boat home, when we were… talking about that book I wanted to show you? The one I thought you might be super interested in? But I couldn’t- uh- find it? Well I did!” he beamed with a little sparkle.

“Oh? I’m very intrigued in that offer.”

“You read?” Sanji scoffed with incredulity.

“So if you wanted,” the bigger man continued without acknowledging the insult, “you could come by and… check out my library, I’m gonna be hangin out at my office in the warehouse district for the rest of the day. If you’re not doing anything later, of course.”

“She’s busy.”

“No I’m not,” the historian stepped over Sanji’s protective dismissal, “I should be free for the next few hours, we could go now?”

“Uh, yeah totally! Now? Super cool, let’s roll!”

“No way!” The cook interjected once more, “Robin isn’t go off alone with you!”

“I assure you, dear cook, I’ll be fine. He and I talked about it yesterday, he just wants help with his collection. I won’t go anywhere, Franky can keep an eye on me. I promise.”

The cyborg was definitely keeping some sort of eye on her, though it was difficult to tell if the intent behind his glance was wholly innocent. The sunglasses on indoors weren’t doing him as many favors as he thought they were.

“You’re not the one I’m worried about, ma cherie! He’s- he’s- he’s dangerous! And if ever laid a hand on you, too, I’d never forgive myself!” Sanji was starting to turn red, mind racing with numerous imagined scenarios in which to save the archeologist from.

“Whoa, brother, I assure you, I w-.”

“He won’t,” Robin cut the him off, “I can handle myself, it’s just a few hours of boring archive work. I’ll be back by dinner, I won’t wander off, he won’t touch me.”

Those mechanical prosthesis twitched inadvertently, itching to touch something. He could wait, at least until they were fully alone.

“Please,” the cook’s eyes were pleading, “did you talk to Usopp yet? Did you see what he did? What he’s capable of? This is a dangerous situation, please think this through!”

“Ay, you’re not supposed to be talking to Usopp either,” Zoro finally spoke up from the dining table. He leaned back in his chair and rested his boots on the surface.

“Take those off of there, do any of you have manners? What the hell!” The blond man aggressively shoved his shoes back to the floor, making the chair crash backward.

“Stop fighting,” Chopper whimpered. He shrunk back toward the bunks and curled defensively in on himself.

“Robin, please. At least let me go with you,” Sanji insisted.

Nami emerged from the depths of her shopping bags to meet the other woman’s line of sight. She sighed, “I’m kind of with Sanji on this one. Maybe buddying up would be a good idea, just to be safe. I know you can kill him in an instant if something went bad, but we’d rather it not come to that. We’re worried because we care. Plus, if you kill him early, it means we can’t interrogate him for where he stashed the money.”

Franky had curled in on himself and shrunk back to the door. He’d been backed into a corner, outnumbered three-to-one, and the archeologist was still playing neutral as to not give her motives away. She felt a little bad witnessing how guilty he looked, but she also knew that the overbearing care from her crew came from a justified perspective. They had no reason to think he had the capabilities of being soft with her, of being gentle, of being lov—.

No, that train of thought needed to terminate.

“Please,” Robin attempted with one final plea, “I don’t need a chaperone, I promise.”

“You don’t need one, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better! It would make all of us feel better,” the cook took a step forward. The navigator at the table nodded her head in agreement.

The archeologist spun, seeking backup from the big cyborg, but he already had his hand on the front door in full resignation.

“Yeah. I hear ya. They got no reason to trust me, I get it,” he muttered and opened the door. “If it helps, she was helpin’ me out with a way to say sorry.”

“It’s not her job to help you apologize,” the blond snapped.

“Yeah. I know. I’ll see you dudes later. Bye, Nico Robin.”

“Wait,” she pulled her jacket back on and grabbed her book bag, “I’m coming with you.”

“And you’re not going alone,” Sanji followed, tight on her heels.

“Fine, sure,” the cyborg responded curtly. He didn’t seem happy at all by the turn of events, but his displeasure had been turned in on himself. Franky walked out into the bright and bustling dockyard with shame draped over his large, metal frame.

The walk through the city was awkward and tense. No one spoke for a long time as the trio twisted though the winding backstreets. Sanji was on his fourth cigarette in minutes.

Robin looked around, trying to find some conversational ice breaker that would help to turn the tone of the silence. “The weather’s nice today,” she offered, neutrally.

“Yeah, it’s always super clear the week after the storm.”

Silence fell again, the clicking of heels on cobblestone serving as the only metronomic interruption. Staccato footsteps echoed down shadowy alleyways.

“So what’d you guys do today?” Franky eventually took his own stilted stab at conversation as they he guided them down darker and darker streets.

“I got up, I made breakfast, I cleaned up after breakfast. Then, I made lunch. And I cleaned up after lunch. And now we’re doing this,” Sanji answered the question that had only been pointed in his general direction out of politeness.

“Wow, that sounds… super boring, I’m not gonna lie.”

Sanji ignored the comment and turned to Robin.

“You were up before I was, are you feeling alright?” The cook’s tone indicated a genuine care, not nearly so wrapped up in just the aesthetics of affection.

“Mmm, yes, I’m fine. Insomnia,” the woman stifled a yawn, “I had a hard time falling asleep, and had terrible nightmares once I did. So I decided not to fight it and just got up with the sun to read.”

The blond’s frown was severe and his eyes concerned. He bit down on the butt of his next cigarette, muttering under his breath. All three wandered for a while longer, settling back into uncomfortable quiet until the trio found themselves in front of an inconspicuous, unmarked door. Franky swung it open like he owned the place, because he did.

They made their way into the little back room of the warehouse, eyes adjusting from the blinding white of the city to the cool stone interior. The little office room was covered wall to wall in newly drafted blueprints; sketches of motors, window frames, taffrail, and sunflowers were pasted to any free space. Box after box had been shoved into the cramped space, holding a countless quantity of books. More were piled all around the drafting table, some opened to specific pages, improperly tabbed and bookmarked in haste. Crumpled scrap blueprint paper filled a bin, overflowing out of it and scattering around the floor in every direction. There was an old sofa shoved up against a wall, loaded with even more dusty tomes. A wooden chest with a hefty lock sat between the desk and an additionally ladened table.

“Damn, dude, you couldn’t clean before a lady came over?” Sanji immediately dismissed.

“Yeah, I cleaned up from the fight and I rebuilt the wall… and then I had a lot of work to do, okay? So no, it’s not normally like this. Usually. But my house is kind of in a state right now, sorry,” Franky went on the defensive, voice thick with sarcasm.

Robin wasn’t paying attention to either of the boys’ squabbles as she made her way over to the fist of many crates of books. Their owner scrambled to meet her at the pile, his rough hands riffling through the worn titles.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you had a whole library in need of organization,” she laughed and picked up a copy off of the top.

“Well, that’s why I asked the expert for help. I got two main types of books we’re sorting through here. So if you see any engineering journals and any books on historical ship building styles, set those to the side. But uh, that’s kinda most of them. I dunno,” the cyborg shrugged.

“Hm, I see,” the historian nodded to herself. Many hands blossomed and carried one of the crates over to the free spot on the worn couch. She cozied herself into the crook of the arm and got to work, one by one opening up to the title page, putting the subject matter together, and then stacking each in one of a few initial piles. “Do you want me to sort out the more damaged copies? Some of these didn’t fare well in the fight, it seems,” she tsked at a cover-less tome.

“Uh, yeah. Set ‘em off to the side, I’ll figure out how bad the damage is at the end,” the he agreed. He turned on a little radio snail and let the music fill the dead air.

Sanji frowned from his spot in the doorframe, “Wait, how long is something like this going to take? I thought you were just coming to pick up a book. You’re not planning on organizing all of this are you?”

“Oh yes, my dear cook. We’ll be here for quite some time, he said he wanted help with the entire collection.”

“Yeah, bro. Take a seat, chill out, lend a hand if you want. We’re going to be at it for a while. Oh, if you see any stuff on air rockets, cola synthesis generators, or lasers, give those to me right away.”

“I’m not touching that horrible couch,” the chef looked disgusted.

“It’s more comfortable than it looks,” Robin laughed and pat the spot next to her.

“No way.”

“Then, uh, just stand there I guess, bro,” Franky laughed. He cleared a little spot on the floor and lowered himself down to the stones. The older man winced when he dropped to his calves.

“Are you alright?” The archeologist asked with genuine concern.

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just spent too much time on my knees yesterday. What can ya do?” He chuckled and rolled to sit cross legged.

She kept her face buried in the book she was checking to try and hide any possibility of blush at the memory of him on his knees. “Well, if you wanted, you could come sit here with me?” The historian asked. Many hands sprouted to start clearing off more of the scattered books.

“Nah, I’m fine. The sofa’s yours to take, I’ll stick to the floor,” he shrugged and got to work on his own pile to sort through.

They worked in silence for several minutes. Robin used extra hands and extra eyes to make quick work, but the size of the task seemed to grow the more books she organized. Sanji never took his eyes off of them, though he did eventually take a seat in the desk chair. The crackling music helped to cover the tense atmosphere. She didn’t know how long they’d have to keep this performance up. The task was enjoyable, sure, but not as enjoyable as the activity she’d actually come to the warehouse for. The way Franky was sprawled on the stone floor had her looking dangerously. It was a risky game with their extra companion standing guard.

“Hm,” the archeologist mused after a beat, “what would you like me to do with books in other languages? You’ve got quite a few here. Are you a polyglot?”

“Eh, sort of. It’s complicated. Uh, if it’s anything Southern, Romantic, or Eastern, sort it like normal.  If it’s Fishman, hand it to me, that goes in the other collection. If it’s Western or Northern, put it off to the side. I gotta find a translator for those.”

“Oh? Connard ne parle pas Nordais?” Sanji snickered.

“Don’t start that,” Robin shook her head and got back to work. “I speak Western, along with a few other languages, if you ever need the help.”

“Damn, Nico Robin, you sure got a super talented tongue,” Franky laughed and pulled over a new pile of books to sort through.

“Well, it is a specialty of mine,” she replied with an extremely casual tone, “Do you have any other languages you speak? Your accent is very strong.”

“Oh, uh, I’m bad at speaking Romantic, I just know how to read it. Haven’t spoken Southern since I was a kid, the accent just stuck. And I know one more, but you’re not gonna find any books in it,” the cyborg smiled. A big hand tapped her knee to catch her attention.

I sign, do you? He gestured with his hands and a questioning expression in his brow.

She lit up right away. Two extra hands blossomed to sign so that she didn’t have to put her book down. Yes, I sign, but not well.

Super, Franky signed back, grinning with excitement.

Last night, I remember you said you were deaf, Robin motioned.

He nodded but then shrugged his shoulders, Yeah, before the accident I was Hearing. Still hear with the aids. Learned to sign for my Family.

I see, she smiled.

“Hey, what the hell are you two talking about?” Sanji interrupted. She’d practically forgotten he was in the room with them. It was a good thing he made his presence known before the woman had the opportunity to act on any impulses.

“It’s nothing. It was just about his Family,” the archeologist shrugged him off and got back to work. An extra eye sprouted to watch the big man on the floor more closely. She internally justified the action with the thought that she was waiting in case he signed again, but really she was enjoying the way his fingers gently paged through the books he was organizing. Oh, if only they had a chance to get alone. The woman already knew how nimble those mechanized digits could be, and she desperately needed to experience the sensation on her skin once more.

“Pourquoi ne peut-il pas le dire dans une langue que nous connaissons tous?” The blond man crossed his arm and huffed. «Why can’t he say it in a language we all know?»

“Mais où est le plaisir là-dedans? Et tu pourrais, aussi,” the historian giggled. «But where’s the fun in that? And you could, too.»

Her laugh made the cyborg on the floor squirm with an air of jealousy. Neither man seemed happy that she could converse with the other privately.

The cyborg waved and started to sign again. When’s the cook going to go? I want to be alone with you. Want to make out, big hands motioned. He moved quicker than she thought he would, though his large prostheses lacked grace in their gesticulations.

She couldn’t quite figure out the nuance of what he was trying to convey. What? Coffee? Too late to get coffee. I had coffee earlier.

Franky shook his head quickly, No, not coffee. Make out. Kiss you. You’re beautiful today. Every day.

Robin flushed, realizing his flirtatious hands were asking for something much more direct. Just make out? Like teens? She signed back.

First we have to clear the books from the couch. I want to fu- the cyborg’s hands froze before he could finish the movement of the last sign. It was clearly too obvious what he was trying to express with his fingers practically humping each other. Robin stared at him, face red, jaw on the floor. Sanji stared at him in equal horror. He didn’t need to know the language to understand the nature of the crude gesture.

“Ah, qu'est-ce que ce pervers t'a dit?” The cook blinked, baffled. «What did that pervert say to you?»

The archeologist shook her head, “Rien, il disait juste qu'on devrait trier ces livres ensuite.” «Nothing, he just said we should sort these books next.»

“Et dans quelle mesure cela impliquait-il du sexe, ma chérie?” «And how much of that involved sex?»

“Ignore le, mon cher chef,” she grew a hand off of a pile of books to fluff through the fringe that partially occluded his face.

The blond huffed and shot daggers at the back of the cyborg’s head. The trio grew uncomfortably silent once again. Something electric hung in the air, but the buzzing little radio filled the white noise. Robin and Franky both focused intently on sorting through their respective piles of books. The cook kept his eyes fixed on the situation, standing guard for her protection.

Sanji judged people by what they did with their hands. It always seemed like an easy standard to check. The actions of people’s hands told you a lot about someone, their mind, their motivation.

Luffy had hands that bounced everywhere. They were always doing something, never quite where you wanted them to be. He would hug at the most inconvenient times, he would snatch food when backs were turned, he would grab at things he shouldn’t be reaching for. The captain’s hands couldn’t be controlled, but that’s what Sanji liked about them. They were impulsive, joyous, free. That ugly ass moss head had hands that were rough and calloused, but practiced their precision and never faltered. He could admit that much, at least, even if that idiot could stand the clean under his nails every once in a while. Usopp had hands that were nimble, thin hands that plucked pellets from pouches and notched with care. The storyteller’s fingers splayed hypnotically when he wove his yarns. The cook always liked that their sniper talked with his hands, emphasized his words with points and shakes.

Nami’s hands, oh Nami’s hands. Nami had beautiful hands, perfect for sliding into pockets and stealing a wallet without notice. Sometimes, on a very, very rare occasion, she’d let him in close enough to feel the calluses on her palm, the scar on the back of her hand, the divot on her middle finder where her drafting pen always rested. She took great care of her hands, to the point where all those little human nicks could only be noticed by those who knew her best. Nami had smart fingers that could swirl around ties and bring men to their knees. He would know. If he had to be wrapped around a finger, he was glad it was those fingers.

But above everyone, Robin’s hands were his favorite.

Robin’s hands were everywhere. She had a control of her space that he’d never seen before. Back on the Merry, her hands would appear to make a pot of coffee on instinct. Every time he tried to help, they’d shoo him away without a word. He could do it, he could make her her coffee himself. Yet, he realized very early on, there was something she savored about the routine of the process. Robin enjoyed the rhythm of making her coffee by hand. She liked grinding the beans, she liked boiling the water, she liked pouring her cup. That incredible woman did it all from a distance, at that. The little ship had engrained itself deep in her heart; it became one with the woman who could grow from anywhere within it. He loved watching her create with her hands. She always gestured for him when she was done, giving the cook a signal that he could bring her the steaming cup. She let him into her tempo of routine, right at the end. Like whipped cream on top. What a joy.

Sanji didn’t care for a single thing he’d seen that cyborg’s large gun hands do, however. All that asshole’s could do was destroy. The night before, after they’d gotten back to town, he’d snuck off to help Usopp get settled with blankets and meals for a day or two. The cook had taken a closer look at the bandages, checked out the sniper’s busted lip and sprained wrist for himself. Their storyteller’s hands had trembled. Those injuries obviously hadn’t come from the fight at the gates of hell, but all the other boy wanted to do was brush past the topic. He was ready to move on, but Sanji wasn’t. Fire still ran in his blood, angry that anyone in the world would dare to maul caring hands like that. Each time he imagined those fists, huge and heavy and iron, cracking down on Usopp’s skull… it made him sick with fury.

But there she was, perfect, wondrous Robin. She sat on Franky’s couch, laughing at his jokes, paging through his notes, blushing at his compliments. He wanted to scream, to shake her, to ask her if she really understood what she was doing. That incredible woman was giving that brute an inch and he was taking a mile. Franky kept flirting with her, that much was obvious. She kept taking the bait, too. What the hell?

Robin’s hands were all over his books. So many had grown around the room to help organize his collection for him. It was deeply unfair, that oaf was making her do all the labor while he just sat on the ground. Her hands were easily doing four, five times as much work as he was.

Then, they started to talk with their hands. That was the final straw.

  Sanji was genuinely dumbstruck that the big monstrosity could even communicate through his gesturing. It made him angry that he didn’t know what was being talked about. Some signs seemed easy to interpret, but their presumed meaning couldn’t possibly be correct. Maybe he had misunderstood, maybe his own pervert brain had taken control, but he wasn’t about to give that man the assumption of innocence.

Kiss? Sex?

No. Not Robin. Not his dear Robin. Not with this bastard, especially.

The next hour passed like an eternity. The room lingered in the echoes of the radio, punctuated only by the sound of old pages turning. Every few minutes, Robin would tap the back of the ogre’s hand, sign something to him, smile at his response, and go back to organizing the books. Whenever she would shift her position on the couch, Sanji would feel a brief and joyous hope that their purgatory would soon end, but he was crushed each time she settled back down. It didn’t even look like a particularly comfortable couch, yet she made herself at home with ease.

Without a task, all the cook could do was stare off into the middle distance. The time ticked on. He wanted to scream. He’d been in much worse waiting patterns than this, and yet the agony was insurmountable. Sanji considered picking up a destroyed book and riffling through its torn pages, but that would mean he’d be waving the metaphorical white flag. He’d kicked that house down brick by brick, it be an insult to his masculinity to help reorganize the fallout.

Near the second hour mark, his head began to hurt and his palms grew clammy. The cook tapped his heel on the ground, knee bouncing uncontrollably. There was an itch in his hands. The craving grew deep in his chest, hollowing him out, filling him with overwhelming desire. Hunger of the heart could no longer be ignored.

“Can I smoke in here?” Sanji finally sliced through the tension with a vocal cleaver.

“No way, bro, take that shit outside!” Franky called back without looking up from his pile of books. A growing number had been bookmarked and set aside. It was hard to see what exactly the he was looking for, but dozens of tomes now stacked like a city around the mecha man.

Sanji huffed but made no effort to get up from the chair. A second decade passed, and the young man could feel himself wrinkling with age. He’d been in worse purgatories, sure, but he hadn’t had a nicotine addiction back on that island. Or in that dungeon. The cook, not for the first time in his life, prayed for a miracle. He begged any divine being that may be listening to send him an angel.

“Bro, you in here?” A voice called from the other room behind the doors.

“Brooooooooooooo,” a second, similar voice echoed.

“Back here!” the cyborg responded to the calls in a nearly deafening bellow. Mozu and Kiwi opened the newly rebuilt door to the draft room with a bang.

Sanji’s eyes lit up from their dissociation. Heaven had listened, and heaven had sent him two women in bikinis. Maybe god was real, after all. Or maybe he was just in the deep throes of withdrawal. “Hello, ladies!” He blurted out, initially weak but doing his best to recollect himself. The cook jumped to his his feet, trying to play it off cool like he was stretching his long legs.

“Uh, hi,” the one in pink giggled. She didn’t look nearly as impressed as he hoped she would have. They’d met briefly before on the train, but he didn’t know much about either of the square women. The interruption alone wet his palette though, like a twist of lemon and a dash of paprika that immediately brightened a heavy sauce.

“Hey, bro, we bought two more boxes of books. Also, the guys said they found your other gun case but it was too heavy. They wanted to know if you wanted them to leave it down there for you to handle, or if they should team lift it up here,” the other sister in yellow summarized to the seated man in the middle of the floor

“Oh! You’re Robin!” The pink one’s attention suddenly snapped away from the blond man and toward the woman curled up with a book on the sofa.

“Oh, heeey, Robin,” her sister winked.

“Uhhh, tell em I’ll come pick it up once I’m done here,” Franky responded, groaning as he stood up from the hard floor. He stretched with a loud mechanical noise, rolling his shoulders and straining his neck to one side.

“Sooooo, whatcha doin?” Both girls asked simultaneously, peering around the crowded drafting room.

“Organizing his destroyed book collection by topic, author, chronology, language, and damage,” the historian mumbled. She closed her book and put in in a reorganized crate. It was properly filed away between similar volumes on modern rigging theory. Robin took the opportunity prompted by the others to take a quick stretching break. A few hands sprouted from the now-cleared couch to roll wrists and bend fingers in a similar motion.

Mozu and Kiwi seemed to be having a silent conversation with their big bro, though they used their eyes rather than their hands. The pink one raised her eyebrow. The yellow one’s square afro fanned toward the archeologist. Franky rolled his eyes and cocked his head. Both women nodded like they understood what he was expressing, and all four lovely eyes locked on to Sanji like he was prey. Something stirred in his chest. His hands unclenched but itched harder than ever. The low simmer in his belly grew into a rolling boil, breaking down his mirepoix and rendering marrow from his bones.

“Hey, Legs! Can I bum a cig?” Mozu slid up next to the cook. Kiwi squished against him on the other side.

“O-oh?” He pat his suit down in search of a spare handkerchief for his nose, but his efforts were in vain. He’d wanted to say something suave, something sexier, something more dashing. Oh no, ladies, smoking is bad for you and I could never hurt your beautiful lungs or contribute to eventual wrinkles. No, even the words in his mind seemed wrong. The withdrawals were making his brain feel fuzzy. What the hell was going on? How was the fucking robot able to get Robin to laugh with just his hands but he couldn’t even form a sentence around these women?

“Come on, you’ve clearly got the shakes bad, let's go take a quick fifteen outside,” the other sister offered.

“Get some fresh air in your lungs, it’s good for you!” The first agreed.

“I can’t leave, I’ve got to make sure nothing bad happens to Robin,” Sanji frowned and dug his loafers into the stone floor.

“Oh pffft, they’re sooooooooo boring though, just look at them!”

“Yeah, sooo boring. They’re just like, reading quietly? Cleaning their books? Come ooooon. Snooze! How long have you been just watching them be old and boring for?”

“…Two hours,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Two hours?!” They both gasped in sugary surprise. “Oh, you’re so overdue for a cig.”

One sister reached deep into the chef’s trousers’ pocket for his pack of cigarettes, the other reached in for his lighter. Two hands on his thighs practically made him yelp. Mozu put a smoke to her lips and Kiwi lit it for her. The paper burned and smell drifted up, right into the cook’s face. “I… I have to stay here… to…”

His will was dissipating into the air like the smoke that slithered around his face. He could be strong, but the raw desire clawed at him. He was only a man, at the end of the day. The comforting caress of tobacco wrapped its arms around him and called for him to follow. One of the women’s noses nearly brushed his ear. His hands shook dangerously; the buzzing in his fingertips would not subside. Sanji was especially bad at denying temptation. One little taste wouldn’t be the end of the world… right?

He’d known the lack that only came from an empty belly, a lonely hand, and a depressed mind. The rush of a quick hit was the exact tonic to calm the nerves, but getting his easy dopamine came at the expense of leaving Robin alone with him. Conflict stirred in his belly, something acidic mixed into his roiling broth.

“I toldja, if you wanna smoke, take that crap outside!” Franky declared with annoyance. The sisters smiled back at Sanji and began walking to the front door. One held the burning cigarette out like a dog treat.

This was bait. L’amuse bouche. He didn’t know if he could resist it.

Everyone had their vices, after all.

“She’ll be fine, you can dip for a few minutes. They’re just going to be old and boring some more. Come on,” the swim suited ladies beaconed, his charred cigarette on full display.

Weak willed in the throes of withdrawal, Sanji looked pleadingly at Robin on the couch. “V-vous allez juste travailler?” He asked, shakily. «You’re just going to be working?»

“Oh, for at least two or three more hours. We’re only about halfway done, you should take a smoke break now, I’ll be alright. Go, dear cook,” she smiled back.

Sanji glanced between her and the lit cigarette that beaconed him toward the door. He looked at Franky, back to Robin, to the cigarette, up to Mozu, across to Kiwi, back to the cigarette, to Robin, to the cigarette, to Franky, then to Robin. And then back to the cigarette.

A blossomed hand grew from his elbow, and squeezed reassuringly around his clammy palm. She really seemed so confident that this would be alright. He had to trust her, that’s what love was all about, right? The room had grown so hot, he felt like a lobster just realizing he’d been put in the pot, boiled alive in his own stew. Something in the back of his mind caved.

“F-fine. I’ll be right back. Fifteen minutes. Robin my love, I’ll just be right outside if anything happens and you need to go,” Sanji said as he backed away slowly. Polished loafers took cautious steps in the direction of the smoke. He squeaked through the office, practically vibrating. Every few steps, he turned to check on the archeologist, still making herself busy with a tall stack of books.

“Au revoir, mon cher chef,” she chuckled in reassurance.

“Uh, ciao, bro,” Franky waved. The sight of those big fists didn’t calm his jittery nerves in the slightest.

“I’m gonna smoke this thing without you, cook broooo,” one of the sisters sang from the main room.

Sanji’s bloodshot eyes begged for Robin to stay safe one last time. He didn’t trust the cyborg, but watching them interact over the last two hours had at least confirmed that he probably wouldn’t hurt her. The teaspoon of relief didn’t do much to offer comfort, but sometimes a teaspoon was all it took to change the whole flavor of a dish.

He tried to keep his steps even as he followed the sisters. She’d be fine, she’d be fine, she’d be fine. Robin could handle herself, she was a master assassin. If the brute tried anything, that woman could absolutely snap his steel rebar neck. Then, they would just need to toss the body into the sea together. It was fine, she was fine.

The cook felt sick to his stomach. It churned with fear, it twisted when he looked at those bikinied ladies, it writhed for the fucking outstretched cigarette. Their trick had been successful. He was leaving with them, at least for a little while.

“C’mon, Legs!” The yellow one giggled and tossed him the nearly-empty pack of smokes.

“Let’s go for a little walk! It’ll be fun!” The pink one threw her arm around his shoulder and guided him outside. The sparkling sea nearly blinded the cook after hours stuck inside.

Beauty lay around him on every side. It was nearly romantic. Sanji could feel his sharp edges immediately soften the moment he pulled on his first cigarette in hours. The pounding in his head settled into a quiet drum, the itch in his hands relaxed, but his nervous heart remained locked in that stale, old warehouse. Relax, he told himself, she was fine. Robin would be alright, he finally had his nicotine, and maybe the nice ladies were the whipped cream on top.

What could possibly happen in just a few minutes? Franky promised he wouldn’t lay a hand on her, and he could always be reduced to scrap metal if that turned out to be a lie.

The warehouse’s door slammed shut. Robin held up her hand in pause, a phantom eye trailing the group as they exited the building and walked down the street. Franky was frozen, leaning on the drafting desk but barely breathing. Only his eyes followed the archeologist’s movements as she paced cautiously into his personal space. They both waited one second longer as the demon verified that the party had no intention of coming back immediately.

She nodded once and lowered her hand signal.

Franky was all over her in a flash, like a gun going off at the start of a race. Both big hands engulfed her head, and his mouth immediately found hers. His kiss was bold and hasty, trying to claim as much territory as fast as he could. He wasn’t about to take their precious few minutes alone for granted.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Robin, similarly, refused to procrastinate. She wrapped her own arms around his neck to pull him closer to her height. Two sprouted hands ran down his abs and two more skimmed up his legs.

“Fuck, I need you. Been lookin’ atcha all day, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” the cyborg managed to get out between gasps and biting pulls to his lower lip. The woman didn’t respond, just nodded in agreement as she kept her mouth busy. Both of his hands ran along her body in parallel- from her temples, down to her shoulders, and around each breast. His thumbs massaged big circles over the fabric, squeezing them gently before continuing on over the rest of her torso and down to her thighs.

She squirmed at the sudden chill of his fingers but knew they didn’t have the minutes to spare for him to warm them up. Her extra palms mapped his large mechanical body and converged at his epicenter. A shutter of apprehension rippled over his torso as she connected at different angles with his swim briefs. The woman smiled into the kiss and ran her cursory inspection over the package. She let out a full laugh when he properly stiffened under the pressure.

Franky groaned, eyes rolling and head falling backwards in delight as her hands found the contact he’d waited an extra day for. He broke out of the kiss, turning back to the desk. Robin stayed latched to his skin. She followed the outer curve of his neck, licked down his chest, and encircled one soft nipple between her lips. His groans got louder as she played with his body like a giant toy.

He used the back of one hand to push notes and sketches off of his drafting desk, scattering them onto the stone floor like confetti. One pile of books began to tip, but slender appendages caught the stack and moved it to the floor before an even bigger mess could be made. Dominoes were perched to fall. With the surface clear, the cyborg moved to sit on the desktop. He pulled the comparatively smaller woman into his lap, lifting her thighs to straddle his hips. She angled herself to kiss him with desperation on her tongue.

The many hands returned to his hair, pulling with a quickened need that had been absent the day before. Cautious exploration was replaced by pent up desire. The sensation of fingers leafing through his coif was becoming a familiar one, and yet he hadn’t yet grown tired of it. Franky suspected he never would.

Robin’s hips ground down along the length of his erection. He bit back another moan, already too tight in his spandex. The big hands on her thighs rose higher under her skirt. One wandered up to her waist and the other reached around to cup her ass. The tight dress pulled up to bunch under her bust line, exposing the thin strip of fabric that was barely keeping her heat at bay.

Franky moved to trace her outline through the panties, but before he could break the seal she flashed that devilish look again. Her hips slid along his once more, rocking with a delicious pressure, but kept the velocity of her weight going. She leaned back and slid off the desk, leaving him momentarily untouched. The demonic woman stood before him, looking hungrily down at his splayed knees, tousled hair, and glistening lips.

“All this anticipation, I need to see you up close for myself first,” she crooned, drawing her own two hands down the midline of his abdomen. They swirled through the little blue hairs that directed attention lower. She first traced the hem of the little swimsuit, then the outline of the appendage straining to be released. Additional limbs lifted the man’s pelvis up as she hooked fingers around the sides of the sleek garment. Robin’s eyes looked up once more, gaze dragging up his body, but the man’s own were already rolling back at her teasing. She pressed a quick kiss into the side of his agape mouth.

As she eased back from the kiss, her hands tightened around the briefs and pulled. Robin was glad they moved, quelling anxieties that they had truly fused to synthetic skin. There just wasn’t the time to savor the unwrapping. He sprang up from the tight swim suit’s prison with a loud gasp of release.

“Ahhhh, I see,” the archeologist glowed, leaning in to get a closer look. She could tell he’d put a lot of thought and effort into the shape and style of his member. It fit the size ratio to the rest of his giant body, plus an extra inch to look needlessly impressive. He was dense, and paired with the length the woman was left feeling just slightly intimidated at the idea of taking the whole thing. Loose cerulean curls covered any seams or implication of its removable quality. Blood, or something like it, clearly flowed, and the pronounced veins pointed to an extreme blush emanating from his tip.

Robin knelt, one phantom hand curling from underneath to gently apply pressure around his balls. Her own hand traced the entire length along the underside from his base to his tip. Franky let out a long, throaty moan under her soft touch. He was already leaking considerably, and the woman swiped over his head. She brought her thumb to her mouth and licked.

“Mmmm, you’re sweet,” she hummed in surprise.

“F-flattery will get you nowhere, babe,” he groaned, already having issues keeping himself together. Another whine escaped his lips as three new hands gripped the length.

“And do you… do you have… are you…” she looked to formulate the question on her mind but blushed in search of the right phrasing.

He put together what she wanted to ask and shook his head. “Call my dick a fruit user the way I got no swimmers. Shit, no offense. That was bad, sorry” he laughed. The temptation toward humor had beaten the heat of the moment.

The archeologist froze for a second as her brain processed the joke he’d made. She laughed weakly, too, though it temporarily broke her out of the trance of lust. He leaned forward to hop off the table, chuckling to himself, cock still hard under her grasp. Robin couldn’t help but feel just a little nervous with the big cyborg standing bare in front of her, though it was not not all that different from his normal appearance. His face grew serious again as he quelled his laughter and leaned down to kiss her. The fervor of their time limit still sat just under the surface, but his lips were sweet and methodical. It did not take long for them to find their groove again.

One of his hands dropped back between her legs to tease her. He didn’t have the sensors for measuring moisture, but all other senses conveyed the information that she was quickly growing wet and pliant. Blossomed hands at her hips let the dark, little panties fall to the floor.

Franky’s glance flickered to the clock next to the bookshelf. His eyes grew dark as the fire of necessity returned and he leaned in close to the woman’s ear. One finger stayed working, sliding in deep.

“Nine minutes.”

“Already?” She whined, eyes closing softly. “Then what are you waiting for?”

His speed increased exponentially. One hand lifted the woman to wrap her legs around his waist. As her hips rotated forward, a second finger slid in to make sure she was warmed up enough to take him. Deft fingers worked quickly under their limitations. No time to waste.

They crashed against the wall, all urgency now restored to the kiss. The stones were cold and rough against Robin’s back, but so was the man pressing her against them.

“Ready?” He asked against her lips, voice lowered to a hoarse whisper.

She nodded vigorously without breaking the contact. The hand between her legs slid out and gripped around her thigh. The woman twisted her hips down as she released the numerous hands that held his dick. He guided her, lowering her smoothly until his head was nestled within proximity of its destination. Robin’s lashes intermingled with the cyborg’s and she nodded again, this time with more direct attention. Franky took a big breath, flashed a wide grin, and thrust up.

The gasp that left her lips was ragged with complex pleasure. She’d thought she was ready, but the size and breadth filled her so completely that she could only take the first few inches easily. He was slow at first, lost in his own world of gratification. Every pressure sensor that he’d managed to pack into the device let off a barrage of signals as her tight walls enveloped every side of him.

The demon woman whimpered and moaned, rolling her hips to get used to the sensation. After a brief moment, she gave a final nod to indicate that things felt alright. Her companion picked up his pace. One big hand raised to grip around her waist, holding her steady to the rock work as the thrusts gained momentum. He worked with intent and buried himself as deep as he could. With each press up, she lowered herself further. A loud cry escaped her lips as he hit the furthest back walls. Pressure mounted in other organs beyond. It was almost too much. Almost. Everything in her whole perceivable world was big and brash. Deep, electric, blue.

The scratches of the stone walls felt like pinpricks on her raw skin, isolating nerves like acupuncture needles. Robin felt on fire at every angle. The lips coupled to her migrated to her neck, lapping at the residual markings from the night before. Deep groans escaped the big man at every thrust, reverberating from his chest and into the body around him.

He pumped faster, lost in a cloudy haze of endorphins. This had been all he’d wanted to do for two straight days and he couldn’t even savor the experience. Sweet and salt, funk and lust lingered on his tongue as he tried his best to absorb her. Or rather, be absorbed by her. Either way was good with him.

“Dammit- aaaaah- they- they’re on the way back early,” the demon warned, extra eyes tracking the chaperones’ location from afar.

“Fuck! How mmm-“ Franky tried to exclaim but the words failed him.

“Th-three,” was all she could communicate in response.

The man heaved in frustration, verging on angry that he couldn’t take full delight in one of his favorite activities. He groaned with several more thrusts before pulling the both of them away from the wall and carrying her back over to the drafting table.

He slid out of her with one slick movement. The sudden absence felt like a black hole had opened deep inside of her. Robin cried out as she was set down on the floor. Big hands turned her around to face her away from her lover. One traced down her spine and cupped her ass, the other stayed on her shoulders.

“I can make three work, this okay?” His voice was desperate and pleading as he got her in position.

“Oh, yes,” she shook. He pressed her down, chest to the wood top. Extra hands held her ankles and lifted her higher off the ground for a better angle. One of her real hands gripped the edge of the table, the other braced against the stone wall.

Franky slid back inside her, eternally grateful to bury himself in her depths again. His palm splayed over her back as he thrust deep from behind. Mechanical fingers twisted through her rumpled dress. He grunted and picked up fervor with every buck. Skin slapped and mouths cried at a volume that drowned out the radio. Hot machinery made her shudder beneath him. The man willed his mind to not consider the clock, to just enjoy the feeling of her as he fucked harder, faster, messier.

Robin shifted the angle of her hips and her phantom limbs spread her stance wider. The void pulled him in, determined to consume him before he could populate it with stars. He grit his teeth when many hands sprouted- circling nipples, squeezing his balls, pulling his hair, running nails down his spine. A thin, and manicured forefinger traced along the seam of his taint and encircled his hole, pressing lightly against it.

All the artificial sensors were long overloaded, but it was the focus on his real, working nerves that set his brain ablaze. He couldn’t figure out how she knew just the right places to touch, all the exact buttons to press. The cyborg needed her to never stop. Steel fingers clawed at the plump meat of her ass.

“One- aaah“ Robin cried into the table, the big cock pounding her deep into the wood surface. The beat shook the desk and drummed against the impenetrable masonry.

“Fuuuuuuuck I’m—,” a floral hand muffled his mouth before he could make any flashy declarations. Blood thundered in his ears and he let every piece of himself that still felt human soak in the rush.

In just two more big thrusts, he was coming undone. Franky surged forwards, filling her up. He rode the current of pleasure, electricity zapping his brain. The furnace in his heart boiled liquid in his veins. The icebox in his belly froze every muscle. All the shaken bubbles in his bones exploded all at once with hiss. Pistons pumped in double time. Pressure gaskets buckled.

Franky panted as his eyes took a second to recalibrate, the world slowly coming back into focus. His lungs felt ablaze and he had a momentary panic that he couldn’t feel anything from his knees down. It took another second to remember that was normal.

Artificial blood flow still kept him rigid. The cyborg was careful as he slid out of the woman. She laughed headily, steadying herself once more against the table and turning around to face her lover. They both stood for a moment, catching their breath and drying sweat slicked skin. Franky joined her laughter. He grinned in ecstasy and leaned close to catch her lips once more. Sweet like molasses, salty like the sea.

The tintinnabulation of the front door’s bell made both their eyes shoot open.

“Oh fuck.”

“No.”

They both scrambled to reposition themselves. Robin pulled her discarded panties up off the ground. She flattened her bangs, fixed her dress, and ran back to the couch. It felt almost impossible to ignore the load leaking out from inside her, though she crossed her legs and tried her best. Many hands sprouted to at least pretend like she was still organizing the volumes.

Franky slipped his swim briefs on and clamored to clean up his blueprint paper mess. He was just barely back on the floor and in position when the door to his draft room creaked open.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“Chill out, bro, you’re like, soooo tense,” Mozu put a hand on Sanji’s shoulder as they walked along the canal.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?” Kiwi interrogate, putting her hand on his other shoulder.

The cook scrunched his brow and lit another cigarette. He was starting to run low. “With everything we went through the last few days, I just want to know Robin’s alright. I don’t trust him after what he did to Usopp. How the hell do wonderful ladies like yourselves start hanging out with an asshole like that?” he asked with distain on his tongue.

“Huh? He’s not an asshole, he’s like, the nicest guy we know. He kept her safe all day yesterday, he totally won’t hurt her. We super promise, he’s not like that,” the yellow sister assured him.

“No offense, but all I’ve seen from the guy so far is that he is like that. He’s really nicest guy you know?” Sanji practically laughed but stifled it with another drag.

“Totally!” The pink one declared, “He like, got us sober and housed when we were teens. He does that for everyone he meets, too.”

“Wait… what?”

“Oh, yeah! We would be on like, a whole different life path if he didn’t intervene when he did. The whole Family’s like that. A shit ton of guys have to figure out where they’re living now that the House is gone, it’s why they’re down there trying to rebuild as fast as they can,” the sister with the yellow sunglasses nodded in agreement.

“He’s got a total soft spot for orphans, too. A bunch of the kids in foster homes around town really look up to him. Like he’ll adopt anyone, he offered your sniper boy a spot when they made up the other night.”

Sanji slowed his steps and stared out at the sea. He bit hard on the butt of his smoke, thinking hard about what the ladies were telling him. Wonderful women wouldn’t lie to him, never. Their judgement of character just didn’t add up with his own, though.

Mozu kept talking as they pushed him further from the warehouse, “Yeah, and he’s got like, a hard and fast rule. If you go to him hungry, he’ll always buy you food. It’s not like… good? Like, it’s shitty fast food. But if he hears you’re not eating, he’s getting you a cheeseburger. That guy spends like, thousands of beri every week making sure his people are fed. They fucking hate us at that restaurant, dude, we always order like fifty burgers all at once. But we’ve always got food.”

“Sounds like a food service nightmare, if you ask me,” the cook grumbled, though he was feeling much less confident internally. His hands shook and his stomach churned, no longer from nicotine withdrawals. He was feeling… what was the emotion? Bitter and sweet, spicy yet cooling. Complex flavors lingered in his tobacco. Sanji exhaled with fury, pissed as hell that he felt… a tablespoon of respect for the guy. Dammit! No, no, there was no way that he and that dick were ever going to see eye to eye, even with overlapping philosophies.

“And he built this whole operation from the ground up with his own two hands. It’s really easy for a lot of people in town to misunderstand his motives, but he’s really holding up a lot! He makes sure everyone at the bottom is fed, everyone’s housed, everyone’s trying to get honest work. Big bro does a lot of aid stuff with guys who need prosthetics, too. The ones he gives out aren’t as fancy as his own, but he’ll make anything for someone who needs it. And he’s like, totally involved with the local Deaf community.”

“If he’s such a great guy, then why’s everyone call him a pervert?” Sanji huffed and ashed his cigarette.

“Oh, because they learned real fast that he’ll throw a punch if you call him a… uh, other names. Specifics don’t matter. He’s fine if the dominant rumor going around about him is that he’s a kinky menace. But the rumors are part of it, too. There’s a bunch of bro’s that joined up with the Family because their families forced them out. Big bro’s got a soft spot for deaf, hungry orphans, but he’s got an even bigger heart for anyone going through a gender crisis. He’s a total puppy dog once you get to know him,” one of the sisters smiled bright.

The residual heat in his heart fired up to a broil. Dammit, dammit, dammit. Feeding deaf, hungry, homeless, queer orphans? The same bastard that beat Usopp senseless? It wasn’t fair. The dialectics pulled at him like a wishbone; he was about to snap one way or another.

“Fine. Maybe he’s the pervy fucking saint of Water Seven. I still don’t know if I can forgive him for what he did to my nakama,” the cook simmered.

“Come on, you gotta let the past go!” The other sister said with a huff.

“The past? It was four days ago!”

“Yeah! Soooooo four days ago, things changed! We did cool ass kicking stuff together, we’re practically like family now!” Mozu peeked over the top of her glasses.

“Sooooo four days ago!” Kiwi echoed.

“We’re definitely not like family,” Sanji frowned.

Both sisters sighed in unison as they walked around the corner.

“Okay, you wanna hear a secret?” one of them leaned into his personal space.

“Nooooo, we can’t tell him!” the other protested with fake indignation.

“Tell me what?” the blond looked to the women flanking him.

“Fine but you can’t tell anyone.”

“Aaaaanyoooone.”

“Tell me what?” he repeated.

The sisters smiled at each other.

“So big bro’s got a crush.”

“Like, a school yard playground crush. It’s really funny, we’ve never seen him like this with any chicks before. He’s got a reputation around town for being a real kinky playboy, but he hasn’t actually been into anyone since the accident,” Kiwi lowered her voice as she spread the juicy gossip.

Mozu lit up, “that is, until literally today. He didn’t shut up about it all morning. You should have heard him, she’s all he could talk about. How pretty she is, how smart she is, her laugh, her eyes. And oh my god, he would not shut up about her hands.”

Sanji stopped in his tracks, the half smoked cigarette in his hand dropping to the ground. “On… R-Robin?” The boy trembled. It made sense, of course it made sense. The flirtation back at the office was more than obvious. Any thought that the oaf had had about Robin had occurred to cook four months ago. If anyone knew how it felt to fall head over heels for those hands, it was him. There was a lot to love.

“Yeah!” The one in pink kept going, “And he was asking all this stuff about flowers, too? He was like, reading a book on them when we got up this morning. Wouldn’t stop gushing about how she smells like honeysuckles. He’s got it baaaaaaad, it’s like, super funny.”

“Honeysuckles!”

“It’s closer to sakura than honeysuckles,” Sanji muttered to himself and pulled out his penultimate cigarette. “Well at least he has working eyes, even if his nose is busted. Wait! Did he send those flowers?”

“HE SENT HER FLOWERS?!” The sisters cried in unison.

“I don’t know, there were purple flowers on the table when I got up this morning,” the cook concentrated on lighting his next smoke. His thoughts were spinning. He’d watched Franky flirt with his beautiful, sweet Robin. She’d laughed at his jokes, and not just feigned laughter. Her nose had scrunched in that cute way that only happened when she really meant it. That idiot got one of her rarest smiles out of her, consistently too.

“That’s soooooo cute!” One girl wailed. The other began to tear up.

“It’s not cute! There’s nothing cute about that guy! He can’t get with Robin, it’s not happening! He’s old! And loud! And a perv!” Sanji threw his hands up, trying to come up with any rationalization for why this relationship couldn’t be compatible. He wasn’t jealous… at least not that jealous. Starting something new was a bad idea. Robin just got back on her feet yesterday, and they were only going to be in town until the ship issues were settled. An issue, he reminded himself with fury, that Franky had caused. If she got with him, if she quit the crew and stayed behind to be with a man she just met after everything they went through to save her… that rumination made him feel sicker than any withdrawal. Before she was anything, she was family. And her family wasn’t about to let her throw away her dreams for some weird ass street thug.

The ladies tossed their brother’s defenses back and forth.

“Don’t ruin this for him!”

“Yeah, it’s totally innocent, promise!”

“He’s not hurting anyone! Let him have his little crush! ”

“Just give him a few minutes to talk to her alone. Let a bro shoot his shot! You guys are leaving soon anyways, so it’s not like he’s gonna be her boyfriend or anything!” Mozu pleaded.

“When she rejects him, you two beautiful ladies are going to have to deal with his damn elephant tears. I’m sorry that you’ll be in that situation,” Sanji mourned with an exhale of smoke. He wasn’t nearly as certain about the rejection as his voice sounded, and that made him scared.

“What do you mean ‘when?!’”

“Hey, we deal with them on normal days too, okay?!”

The cook shook his head, halfway between pity for the man’s inevitably broken heart and concern for the well being of these nice women, “If he’s so damn sensitive he probably shouldn’t be making big declarations of love to every beautiful lady that gets him arrested, should he?”

“That’s what we’re saying! He doesn’t act like this. Ever!”

The buildings were starting to look familiar again. He wasn’t quite sure when they had looped around the block, but the warehouse appeared once more just down the street. At least they’d be back inside after this last cigarette was finished. There, he could interrogate the ogre for answers directly. 

Sanji couldn’t blame the man for feeling that way about her, at least. Developing empathy didn’t make the situation any better. The cook knew how it felt to be entranced by those dancing hands. Flirting with Robin was one thing, goodness knows he did the same, but there was no way in hell that bucket of bolts was taking her away from the crew. The cook rolled his eyes in frustration.

He lit his final cigarette as the trio approached the warehouse’s front door. Mozu and Kiwi leaned against the wall and watched him puff at the filter.

“So what’s he want out of this, huh? What’s his end goal? Especially since he knows we’re not staying,” Sanji muffled through clenched teeth and working lips.

“I dunno, maybe he’s just gonna ask her on a date or something?” The pink sister speculated.

“A date? To what, like a fancy restaurant? A play? A sunset picnic?” The man pulled up his mental list of all the places he theoretically ruminated on taking Robin out to, but all of them had pants on the dress code.

“Oh my god have you ever been on like, just a normal date before, dude?” The other sister jumped in.

“Maybe he just wants to talk to her about the stuff they both like? He’s smart, she’s smart. Maybe they just talk super smart stuff?” Kiwi giggled.

“Oooooor maybe he just wants to take her to a love hotel,” Mozu joked. Both sisters trilled, not noticing the cook turn bright red with anger.

“She- she would never!” Sanji stammered. “She’s classy! Robin’s not into s-something like that!” It wasn’t that he’d assumed she was purely virginal, but she’d simply never struck him as being motivated by such factors alone. His blood pressure raised just imagining her in that sort of context. He couldn’t even engage in the full thought without nearly doubling over.

“Hey, bro, is your face okay?”

“Eek, that’s a lot of blood!”

“Robin wouldn’t do that!” He hurried to wipe his face and clear his thoughts, “She doesn’t do one night stands. She’s beautiful, and genius, and she’s not into the big jawed body builder Neanderthal types… I don’t think. There’s a million better men suited for her, and she still wouldn’t take any of them to a love hotel.”

Mozu grinned a knowing smile and shifted her stance. Her shoulder accidentally bumped the warehouse’s delivery doorbell. “Alright, bro. Whatever you say. You know her waaaay better than we do,” she shrugged.

“You’re super certain that there’s nothing going on between them?” Kiwi tried to prod, but the cook was unrelenting.

“No way! She’s way too smart to fall for a guy like that. Even if he helped her yesterday… and caught her when we jumped off that bridge… and spent the afternoon making her laugh. She’s- no way!” Sanji doubled down, but the way he sucked on the last ashes of his final cigarette revealed his anxiety.

“Uh huh.”

“Suuuuuuure, bro.”

Neither sister believed him, and at this point he was having a hard time believing himself. There was only one way to sort this out. The cook extinguished his last cigarette underfoot and grabbed for the warehouse door’s handle. All he needed to hear was that Franky wasn’t thinking of acting on this crush. Loving Nico Robin was like breathing oxygen, everyone did it. But that didn’t mean that glorified hair dryer could hoard all the air for himself.

They’d been gone long enough and he was out of things to smoke. The cook took one last breath of fresh enough air and pushed back into the dank warehouse. Everything seemed normal enough, no signs of trouble. Sanji kept an eye peeled and beelined for the back office. Music still floated from behind the door, but no other sounds were made. His knees trembled nervously as he slowly crossed the threshold.

“Oh, hello, dear chef,” Robin smiled up from her seat on the couch. She looked happy to see him, eyes practically sparkling. Beautiful. It’d been only a few minutes and he’d already missed her. She was fine, not a scratch on her, though her cheeks did appear a bit flushed. Neither she nor that oaf seemed to have moved while he was gone, and her hands were still hard at work organizing the books around the office. She looked quite comfortable in the crook of that disgusting couch. Sanji didn’t see how she could put up with something so old and lumpy. That beautiful woman deserved better, a golden throne just for reading her books in.

“Hey, bro! How was the break? Feelin’ better?” Franky asked from his spot on the ground. The blond didn’t have the words to answer him right away. Just looking at the bastard brought back the confusing thought salad that the sisters had prepared on their walk. Something was different about the cyborg, too. His hair drooped slightly, his shoulders had relaxed, and his heels tapped joyously along with the music. Sanji had been the one on the nicotine break, but Franky looked like he’d been on the receiving end of all the endorphins. Something must have happened while he was away, and that made his stomach flop.

“Can I talk to you? Privately?” Sanji finally asked, curt words on the tip of his tongue. The big, blue man looked confused, then panicked. A silent exchange happened between him and the wonderful woman on the couch. The cook jerked his head toward the main room and Franky slowly rolled up to his feet to follow.

“Uh, sure, bro. Whatcha need?”

“Robin, my dear,” the blond smiled sweetly, “we’ll be right back. We need to have a talk, man to man.”

The archeologist chuckled, hiding her smile behind her fingertips. Oh, she was so cute when she laughed all shy like that. The two men walked out of the office, crossing paths with the two sisters who walked in. The door clicked shut, leaving Sanji and Franky alone in the main room of the warehouse. Water rushed through the empty dock and filled the air with tense white noise.

“W-what’s up, dude?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The cook snapped.

“I- uh- I’m organizing my b—.”

“With Robin, dumbass!”

The cyborg blushed and he shifted nervously from foot to foot, “Oh, uh, we were just talking about stuff. Book stuff. I promise I didn’t hurt her, you can ask her.”

“Then why the hell are those ladies telling me you’ve got a schoolyard crush? You’ve got a crush?! On Robin?!” The words sounded obvious coming out of the chef’s mouth, but he just needed the confirmation.

Franky blinked, caught off guard by an entirely different accusation than he was expecting. “Uhhhhhhhhhhh,” he droned, either thinking hard or drawing a blank, “nah, not really.”

“Don’t lie to me! Of course you do, she’s smart and beautiful!”

“Nah, I’m way too old and cool to have crushes. I mean, you’re right, she is. She’s gorgeous and she’s super nice and she’s so fuckin’ funny. But like, I can be chill about it, bro.”

The denial turned the cook’s heat up on high, making the grease in his pan pop. “So you do!” He accused. “What the hell are you getting at?!”

“Nothing, dude, I swear! It’s nothin’. No feelings, no schemin’. She’s a pretty lady I know, I just wanna have a regular grown up friendship with her while she’s in town. That’s it,” the blue man put both gun hands up in defense.

Sanji didn’t believe it for a second. “Then why are you flirting with her? And gushing about her to people? Hm? What are your intentions with her?”

“What are your intentions with our big bro?” Mozu leaned in like she was interrogating a suspect.

“I- I don’t know yet. I just met him two nights ago. I enjoy his company, and I’d like to get to know him better while I’m staying in this city,” Robin answered democratically.

“So you know he likes ya?” Kiwi giggled, playing the good cop.

“I suspected at much, yes,” the dark haired woman laughed.

“Where was he last night? He was out late, did you guys go somewhere?” The one in yellow squinted, still committed to the intense grilling.

“We- I don’t know how much he wants me to divulge. Hm. Yes, we got a drink.”

“You got a drink together all night?!”

“Didja kiss him yet?” The pink one inquired, her tone closer to sing-song.

Robin chuckled, “Now that I won’t divulge.”

“Oh they totally did!”

“Oooooooooo! Cuuuuuuuute!”

“No wonder he was so blushy all morning! Girl, he’s got it baaaad for you.”

The sisters trilled like birds on a wire.

“Sooooo what’s next? How long are you gonna be in town for?” The one in yellow softened her probing.

“About a month, I think?” The archeologist nodded, “I don’t really have much of a plan. Like I said, I just want to get to know him better.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Mozu winked.

Kiwi grinned with elation, “Soooooo are you gonna sleep with him?”

Robin pursed her lips, recrossed her legs, and shifted in her seat.

Franky crossed his arms and shifted nervously, “I’m not flirting with her, bro, this is just how I talk. I don’t got any intentions. My sisters are just exaggerating, I was tellin’ them about the fight yesterday. I wasn’t gushin’ or whatever. She’s a cool chick, but I’m not gonna ask her out or nothin’, ‘kay? You guys are leaving town in a month, ’s not a road I’m super itchin’ to go down.”

Sanji didn’t look impressed by the excuses.

The cyborg kept talking, like he was nervously rambling. “What, do you ’n her got sometin’ goin’ on? It’s chill if you do, promise. You’re flirtin’ with her, too. ’S like you said, she’s super pretty. Makes sense. I can back off, bro code,” he shrugged.

“Back off? So you are flirting!”

“N-nah, bro, like… uhhhh, fuck.”

“So you do like her!” The cook’s voice rose.

“Of course I fucking like her, man!” Franky finally relented. “But she’s gotta leave town so there’s no where for this to go. I’m gonna be super busy for a while workin’ on my next project, so I don’t have the time to take her anywhere. Ugh this is so stupid, okay. I can’t get her out of my brain, bro, but the things I’m thinkin’ about are all weird. All I wanna do is like, listen to her voice, make her laugh. I just like… sittin’ next to her.”

“Oh my god,” Sanji paled.

“Don’t say it, dude!”

“Y-you…”

“I don’t have a crush on her, I’m tellin’ you!”

The cook balked and dropped his voice to a mere whisper, “you’re in love with her.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the fucking door, bro. Who the hell said anything about love? I think she’s super cool ‘n pretty and all that shit, but I’m definitely not in love with her. I met her yesterday!”

The whole world came crashing around the hopelessly romantic chef. He knew that face, he knew those sweats, he knew the itch in the hands. The recipe for love was written all over the cyborg’s steel body. Did that bucket of bolts even have a romantic bone left in him?

No one said anything for a minute. Sanji stared at the pool of water, processing everything he had witnessed.

“So, uh,” Franky kicked at the stone floor, mumbling, “promise ‘m not gonna hurt ‘er. Wouldn’t do that.”

“She’s going to break your damn heart,” the cook practically muttered to himself.

The cyborg shrunk, “Yeah. I know.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Sanji shook his head. If he had another cigarette he would have lit it. The pathetic display almost drew out a flavor of pity, but he forced the feeling back down. 

“Thanks for the confidence, bro.”

“Why do this to yourself? Why ask her to come spend time with you if you know this is just going to hurt in the end? Why set yourself up for pain?” He asked, despite knowing the response. It was a question and an answer he asked himself every day.

“‘Cos if I can lo- nah. Uh, I’m not in love with Nico Robin. But if I can sit next to her and make her laugh, even for a month, my life’s gonna be better for it. She deserves to be happy. She seems happy right now, at least.”

Dammit! Sanji wanted to kick something, but there was nothing around. He’d gone with her to keep her safe, he’d stuck around to keep her company. The last thing he was expecting was to come out of this outing seeing eye to eye with the fucking douche bag. This motherfucker bought cheeseburgers for hungry, deaf orphans and made Robin smile. He didn’t like the methods, but damn, if he couldn’t respect it, just a little. The realization of something near dignity made the cook want to scream.

“You’re not taking her away from the crew,” the blond shook his head.

“Who the fuck said anything about her leavin’ your crew, bro? I’d never. She loves you guys. You’re her priority. I’m just some dude, yeah? She wouldn’t do that, and I’d never ask her to do that. Seriously, I just wanna hang out with her while I can this month.”

“What happens in a month? You keep saying that,” Sanji frowned. He felt another wave of relief that this oaf wouldn’t take her away from their family. Enough frayed edges had already been pulled at.

“I- oh, uh, I was gonna talk to you dudes about it tomorrow. But I’m gonna build a ship. That’s what we’re doin’ in there,” Franky pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the office. “We’re lookin’ for all my books on how to make this thing as super as it can be. Wanted to say sorry for everything, so I was gonna build it by hand, all on my own. Won’t even have time to hang with her, gonna be super busy.”

“You- what?” The cook was baffled by the man’s actions for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Build a ship? With… those hands?

“Yeah, so like, don’t tell the other guys just yet. Kay? I wanna tell ‘em once my plans are all done in the morning. I’d go through all my books myself, but she really seems like she has fun doin’ this sort of stuff. I thought it’d be a fun thing to do together,” the cyborg kicked at the ground, blush spreading over his cheeks.

“That’s… almost romantic,” Sanji processed slowly. 

“Shhhhhh! No! I ain’t into that sorta crap!”

“You gave her the flowers?”

“I… They were her favorite color and they reminded me of all her hands. She seemed like she had a rough day and I thought she’d smile when she saw ‘em,” Franky grumbled, eyes averted.

“She was smiling at them during breakfast,” the blond sighed. This battle was over. He knew when enough was enough. This wasn’t his fight any more.

“Good. ’S all that matters.”

Loving Nico Robin was like breathing. Maybe this bastard was going to drown the minute they left town on his boat, but Sanji was man enough to let him inhale while he still could.

“She is having a good time, isn’t she?” The cook asked, even though he already knew the answer. Of course she was. Organizing a collection like this was one of her favorite pastimes.

“Seems like it. She’s been super focused, really in the flow. I don’t want to interrupt her,” Franky shrugged.

“Yeah. Yeah. Dammit. Fine.”

Sanji reached for a smoke before he remembered he didn’t have any left. A waft of feminine giggles floated from the office. At least the ladies were having a good time.

“Uh, is there anything else you wanted to talk about, bro?”

“No,” the cook sighed. He had a lot to stew on. The gesture of atonement changed a lot. He needed a cigarette and his hands needed a task while he thought things through. It was getting close to the time he’d need to start dinner preparations, anyway. Fingers itched for a knife.

“Cool. Thanks for the talk, man,” Franky slapped him between the shoulders, making the skinny blond wince. He turned on his heels and lumbered back into the office. The door was left open and the sisters poked their square heads out to wave.

Sanji paced slowly back to the entrance after a beat, but he kept his fists in his trousers pockets. Robin still sat on that awful couch, still sorting through the books, still chewing her bottom lip in severe concentration. He couldn’t take this away from her. It’d been greedy. The historian could have her fun.

“Is everything alright?” She asked with a raised brow. Phantom hands placed tomes on growing towers. Organized stacks of reference journals littered the space like land mines.

“Yeah, I think we’re on the same page. Thank you for your patience, my dear,” the cook forced a tight smile. His eyes snapped to the clock, confirming his circadian rhythm. Dinner prep needed to start in the next fifteen minutes if the captain was going to be appeased- even in his sleep. “You’re still going to be working for a while, yes?”

The archeologist nodded, “just a while longer.” She pointed at the new boxes the girls had brought.

“I- I think I need to go to start dinner. Would you be alright on your own?”

“Oh?” She perked up just slightly. Something dark and wicked briefly flashed through her eyes, though Sanji couldn’t imagine why she would respond in such a matter. He loved when she let that inner demon out. Gorgeous. Shivers ran down his legs.

“We can show you the way back!” Mozu offered. Kiwi threw an arm over his shoulder.

“Thank you for your company, dear cook. I’ll be sure to be back in time for dinner,” Robin smiled. For a second time, her eyes inadvertently flicked to the cyborg trying to make himself busy.

“Est-ce que ça ira?” «Will you be okay?» The cook checked once more.

“Oh, yes. I’m having a wonderful time,” she assured as she sorted another book.

“A-alright. Then I’m going to go back. I’ll see you at dinner, my love,” he tried to sound more confident than he felt. The nerves weren’t as strong as they had been, but the parfait of emotions in his heart left him needing to process elsewhere. Robin’s happiness came first. Always. Even if his legs felt gelatinized.

“Goodbye, mon cher chef.”

“Goodbye, Robin, dear,” Sanji hesitated.

“Byeeeeeee Robiiiiiiin, byeeeee brooooo,” the sisters sang in unison and started to push him out the door. It was time. He had a family to feed. She would be alright. Hopefully, she’d break that big idiot’s heart into a million pieces. Apt revenge, in his opinion. Mozu and Kiwi lead him, as they had just minutes before, out of the warehouse and down the street. There was jelly in his knees, fruit in his belly, honey in his heart, and sorbet in his throat.

Though, he thought as both sisters guided his steps, maybe his dessert still had a little room for some whipped cream on top.

Franky watched Robin shift in the nook of the sofa. She made sure that the party wasn’t returning again this time with another blossomed eye, gazing off into the middle distance.

“So, uh, how’d your talk go?” He asked anxiously as he crossed the office to sit on the couch next to her.

“Hm? Oh, they just wanted to girl talk. They care quite a lot for you, that’s a wonderful connection you three have,” she smiled and shifted toward her companion. “Your talk seemed to go better than I thought it would, I was half expecting our cook to land a kick or two.”

“You heard the whole thing?”

“I only heard small fragments, it’s hard to maintain two conversations at once.” 

He grimaced, but her reciprocal look was much less serious. “Really?” He wrapped a hand around her waist comfortably, “You were having an aright time juggling two conversations earlier.”

“Yes, what was that you were saying about my talented tongue?”

“And you got some super talents hands, too.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” Robin laughed and leaned in close.

Franky closed the gap to catch a jovial kiss. His hands held her for a long time, lips lingering and grin bursting through as he pressed kiss after kiss into her beautiful smile.

There was a quick knock at the door and they both froze, stuck in far too compromising of a position to try and cover it up.

“Hey, I just forgot my- oh!” Mozu glanced at the pair on the couch. She flashed two big thumbs ups at her brother and beamed. “Never mind, good job, stay safe, have fun! I won’t tell Cigs but I will tell Kiwi!!” She called as she swung the door closed hastily.

Both bodies on the sofa flushed with embarrassment.

“Well, that answers one of the questions they asked me,” the archeologist laughed. One of her hands traced over his sideburn and down to his jaw.

“Yeah? What’d they ask?”

“If I’d kissed you yet.”

“Oh, that’s super weird,” he mumbled against her lips.

“I didn’t give them a direct answer. Not that it matters now.”

“My little sis’s ask ya anything else?”

“They asked if I was planning on sleeping with you, too. I didn’t answer that one either.”

“Y’know, I was just about to ask what you wanted to do next. Thought you might be feeling pretty messy after that last round. But maybe you like that?” he raised one brow with a cocky smile. The hand on her waist tightened, his other found her knee

Robin adjusted her seat on the couch, but she never found a comfortable position. Something between her legs was evidently keeping her from fully relaxing. Their last convergence had been much too fast, she hadn’t had the chance to find her release. It was greedy, keeping all the pleasure to himself.

She kissed him at a languid pace, lips without hurry. “Hm, I wouldn’t be opposed to continuing where we left off. Especially without the time restriction,” the woman hummed along his skin.

“Yeah, no rush this time. We can savor it, maybe even get a little spicier,” he nodded in agreement. Mechanical fingers ran from her knee, up her thigh, and teased at the hem of her dress.

“Mmmmm, spicier?”

“Yeah, we got options. I got some super rad toys, if you wanna try ‘em out,” Franky perked up with excitement. He nod toward the locked box on the other side of the room and she followed his line of sight with shock.

“These are your other sizes you were talking about?” The historian chuckled and spawned an extra hand to skim his waterproof seal.

“Oh, way more than just sizes. You wanna see?”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

He got up and wove through the stacks of books, crossing to the large trunk pushed against the furthest wall. The cyborg squatted down to unlock the chest, spandexed backside poking out from under his shirt. He popped the lid up once the hefty lock was removed and looked over his shoulder, beaconing the woman to look.

Robin followed through the space and stood next to him. She peered with curiosity down into the trunk. Six large metal cases stacked against each other horizontally, filling the cavity. A hand sprouted to cup his ass, giving him a little squeeze.

“Guns?” She asked, looking between the box and the man staring up at her through his blue updo. He steadied his balance on the balls of his feet by sliding a hand around her thigh. His fingers idly traced the little rivulet of remnant liquid that had begun to run down her leg.

“Nope!”

Franky grabbed the case on the furthest left with his free hand and pulled it up as he stood. He placed the metallic luggage on the nearby table in the corner. Only a few books still remained on the surface, most of them now sorted into other piles. Both tabs keeping the case closed tight were flipped open with a snap. The cyborg smiled as he lifted the lid. He gestured with a flourish, like he was revealing a magic trick.

Inside was, similar to a standard gun case, a large sheet of protective foam cut snug to the dimensions of the walls. Rather than firearms, however, four differently shaped penises rested in individual cut out niches. A fifth spot in the middle sat empty.

“Oh my, who did you steal these from?” The woman joked.

“Made ‘em all myself,” the self-made man beamed with pride, “Actually that one’s modeled off of a guy I knew pretty well in my early twenties. So I just stole one.”

“Fascinating!”

“Lemme give you a tour! You’ve already met the Favorite. All these bad boys have high density cutaneous sensors and operational blood flow. They work and feel just like they’re supposed to. Left two are thicker but not as long, right two are extra long but not as thick. Cut and uncut each. Wide variety for any situation that might come up. This one,” he gestured into his own lap, “is a balance of everything. My favorite. The uh, perfect package. Ha.”

“The craftsmanship is impeccable,” Robin was mesmerized by the phallic presentation.

“That is the highest compliment anyone has ever given me, wow, thank you,” he beamed and tried to hide a tear of joy in the collar of his shirt. Robin looked like she could hardly imagine how even longer or thicker options would feel, given the impossibility of fullness that had come from the determined perfect ratio.

“Are those other cases much of the same?” She pointed at the other contents of the trunk.

“Oh, so glad you asked. No, they’re the real craftsmanship,” his smile grew even wider.

He closed the lid of the case and latched it again, setting his hand on top of the hard shell.

“So, the one’s we were lookin’ at are more for me, y’know? Full sensitivity, boner poppin’, cum-stored-in-the-balls dicks. But theeeeese-”

The archeologist cringed at his crass description, but that didn’t dissuade him. He grabbed the handles of the next two cases with one big hand. The other hand still wandered aimlessly between her legs.

“-These are pure art,” he declared as he dropped the briefcases on the table next to the first, throwing both covers open.

A dozen candy colored rainbow attachments spanned the width of both cases. Each similarly sat in a perfectly carved spot nestled in protective gun foam, though the cavities were far less uniform. Every single toy was wildly different, fluctuating in size, shape, and texture. Several had color corresponding secondary peripherals. Robin was speechless, mouth agape. There was a wild look in her companion’s eyes as he showed off his gadgets.

“Sorry if I start like, rambling about this. I’ve been working on these for ages but I haven’t really been able to show ‘em off to anyone yet. These aren’t really for me, they’re more for the uh, other person. You, right now, at least. I didn’t like, make these last night. This shit’s premeditated. Anyways, minimal cutaneous sensors in these, so I don’t really feel much. But most of them do vibrate! None of them have circulatory system hook ups either, so what you see is what you get in terms of size. No grow, all show.”

He pointed to an exceptionally oversized orange toy to prove his point.

“Also, no ejac function. Actually that purple one can, but that’s just for fun. This one’s got some really nice ribbing, spent ages on the sculpt. That one’s got a really beautiful curve that’s good for hitting the- okay I don’t think you’ve got a prostate. Unless you do, that’s cool. This one here I call the Sea King.”

“Why do you call it that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He raised his eyebrows in jest. She shifted under his touch, obviously aroused.

“These are…” Robin couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Uh, this isn’t too weird, is it?”

“Not at all! You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into your creations. It’s exciting. There seems to be quite a lot of passion,” the woman smiled and ran a finger down a tapered form.

The tension in Franky’s shoulders released at the praise.

“Th-thanks, yeah,” he whispered as he looked down at her with eyes full of admiration. The little voice in his mind whispered something about that fucking cook being right but he wasn’t ready to engage with that idea just yet. She didn’t look up, still transfixed by the two boxes of vibrators.

“You have such an interesting relationship to sex,” she mused.

“What, that I like it?” He scoffed.

“Mmmmm, no. Beyond that. There’s a dichotomy to it.”

“Lady, I used to be these most popular set of orifices in this city. Do you know how super in demand I used to be? With everyone? I’ve jumped out of probably every window in the lower districts at least once.”

“Ah, used to be. What happened?”

“I, uh, died.”

The archeologist nodded solemnly. She finally looked up from the showcase, but the man’s gaze couldn’t be met. He stared off into space, glassy eyed, thinking about who he used to be. Two phantom hands rose and lightly worked their way over the muscles on his back under his shirt.

“Things come and go. Relationships change. Bodies change, too. You got a second chance to rebuild,” the woman offered, echoing a similar rumination that had been running through her own mind.

“Eh, cum and go was the old approach. I’m taking my time now,” he sniffled and shook himself back into his limbs. Robin laughed, leaning against his shoulder.

“I’m honestly quite surprised there aren’t more people in this city lining up to try, even now. These options seem thrilling,” she mused while turning her attention back to the cases.

“There’s some complicated variables. It’s a more niche attraction, but don’t get me wrong, I can still get it if I want. But I… I get kinda worried about hurting the person I’m with every time I get close. Any time someone normal- not that you’re- I mean… uh… what I’m trying to say is like, you’re super strong and you still got hurt.”

“When did I get hurt?” The woman asked, voice thick with incredulity.

Franky raised a finger and lightly traced the line of bruises that had formed down her collarbone and shoulder. It properly bloomed across her skin, distinct from the love marks he knew for certain he’d left in the corner of her jaw.

She frowned. “You need to be kinder to yourself, that’s from getting thrown down a flight of stairs yesterday. You didn’t do that. Your data pool’s corrupted, so you can’t rely on it for an honest conclusion,” Robin assured him.

“It’s… complicated variables,” He whispered to himself, closer to a question than a statement. His hand kept tracing down her arm and around her elbow.

“Exactly.”

She stood up on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheekbones. A blush spread out across his skin and he laughed a little. The big cyborg still felt nervous about throwing his weight around, terrified of crushing her, horrified at the idea of a malfunction. But if she said it was fine, then he trusted her.

“So, what’s in the next box?” The demon woman changed the subject back to the topic at hand.

“I, oh uh, that’s… whew,” his blush deepened and he stammered. Franky didn’t move to open it, blinking through the emotion laid out across his face. Two blossomed appendages gripped the fourth box’s handle and passed it over to the table. Robin opened the clasps but paused expectantly before lifting the lid. Her eyebrow raised like she was giving him one last chance to explain before she investigated.

“These are uh, also more for me. But uhhhhhh these ones don’t attach to me, if that makes sense. Its more, uh, for sensitive stuff,” he said, flush refusing to subside. The archeologist squinted, though she took the answer as permission to check.

“Ohhhh,” her smile grew wide as she opened the briefcase.

These six toys were organized by size, the smallest on the left building up to the biggest on the right. A garment constructed of sturdy leather and cool brass lay underneath the line of plugs.

“I don’t know if this’s something you’d ever be interested in, it’s fine if not. I get it. But it is my zone with the most intact… analog senses. ‘Cept for the part I upgraded, if ya catch m’ drift. Whatever. Feels nice,” he ran a sheepish hand through his hair. The words spilled out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“Oh, I would be exceedingly interested,” the look in her eyes turned the pilot light near his heart up just a little hotter.

“R-really?” He tried to not sound overly enthusiastic. Cool, he was aiming to keep his tone super cool. It wasn’t working.

Instead of answering verbally, Robin ran an extra palm over his ass. He shivered at the encouragement. The hand gave him a sharp slap before bursting into petals.

“What’s in that case? What else could you possibly have in there?” She inquired, looking to the two remaining boxes sheathed in the chest.

“Eh, those are just the spare packers. You got a feel for one of ‘em yesterday. Just got a few more like it. Different weights, stuff like that."

“Why not just always keep your penis attached?”

“It’s a bit uh, cumbersome. Heh. And they don’t do great underwater. So I try to save ‘em for special occasions. I wear ‘em a lot, just not when I’m doin’ errands and crap,” Franky shrugged.

“Ah, I see. That makes sense. And the last one?” She pointed.

“Oh! That one’s actually just gun. Carbine riffle, don’t worry about that. Ya never know, y’know?”

“Huh.”

“There’s a second whole case too. The guys said they just found it, sounds like. They think it’s all just weapons. Other box has the super weird stuff.”

“Weirder?” Robin’s brows raised and a bit of that devil leaked out. Her eyes were wild, freaky.

“Yeah, weirder. Prototypes, masturbators, the uh, Kraken attachment, plenty of super fun stuff. Some of ‘em aren’t quite ready yet, I’ve still got work to do on a few ideas. Maybe having a tester would be nice?”

“Work out all the… kinks?” She offered.

“Exactly!” He grinned back. Oh, they were going to be having fun. “So, those are the options. See anything catch your attention? What’s got you feeling excited?”

He shifted his stance to cozy up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. His second hand joined the first to tease beneath her dress, lifting it up and tracing around her soaked panties. More of the fluid leaked and he absentmindedly swirled both hands through his lingering lubricant.

She relaxed under the touch and investigated her dozen options for penetration. Phantom hands inspected each one, taking in the texture and sizing up the different diameters.

“Mmmm, this one looks intriguing,” The demon woman picked up a turquoise dildo, over ten inches with an extreme taper and an uneven texture of rough bumps.

“Oh, excellent choice!”

The cyborg grabbed the toy with a moist hand and turned away. A hydraulic hiss filled the air as he swapped his favorite appendage out for the bright toy. The old hardware was tossed onto his drafting desk and he pressed back against the warm body in front of him.

Robin flipped around, but the tall cyborg was already leaning down to steal a kiss. Sparks surged once more, flowing from his system into her as they reconnected. Franky was not nearly so rushed as he had been when they were under a time restriction. His lips and tongue were fierce with the lingering excitement of talking shop and kink simultaneously. Two of his most favorite things. The hand playing between her legs slipped along the slick fabric of her messy panties.

Franky tried to press his weight forward, pushing her up on the edge of the table, but she drove back against him with tangible strength. Robin took one step into his space, forcing him to stagger back without breaking the kiss. Her eyes opened and she guided the man backwards. Too many hands shoved his iron abdomen and he dropped into the middle of the old couch.

She stood between his splayed knees, brushing her hair out of the way. Extra arms helped lift her dress up and over her shoulders, throwing the garment over the desk chair. Franky ran his hands along her body from her calves to her breasts and back down. Fuckin’ stunning.

One mechanical hand landed on the small of her back, holding her steady. His other fingers traced her navel before dipping into the wet mess. He tried to block the flow with a hand to keep as much of his effluence inside her as he could. Her undergarments fell to the floor with a wet sound. Lubricant spilled out over his palm. The cyborg briefly considered adjusting the quantity he released upon climax, but decided he liked it better this way.

The raven-haired woman devoured him, kissing him harder, tongue prodding deeper. She climbed into his lap, each thigh straddling his hips. The old sofa groaned but held firm. His hands guided her to line up over the toy.

“You want it turned on?” Franky asked against her lips. His eyelashes fluttered at the welcome sensation of phantom fingers on the nape of his neck.

“A-are you not turned on?” She asked with a moan. Fingers damming the mess between her legs began to twitch.

He laughed, “No, I mean the toy. ‘Course I am.”

“Ohhhh,” the woman nodded into his jaw.

The big hand cupping her ass traveled down and wrapped around the base of the bright phallus, squeezing for a few seconds. The device began to vibrate, head shaking against her trembling thighs. Franky pulled his hand back away from the kiss and repositioned his fingers to circle her clit. All the ejaculate that he had been holding at bay dribbled out of her at once, down the length of the teal toy.

Her bust shuddered in anticipation. Starving lips latched to one of her stiff nipples. She lowered herself slowly, taking in the tapered length of the vibrator. There was so much residual lubricant and she was already so stretched from his big cock that it filled her with ease. The ribbing gripped into her walls; shivers ran up her spine and out the crown of her head.

Robin raised and lowered herself again, bangs bouncing with the movement. Her breasts followed the momentum, crashing around the man’s head as he tried to keep his tongue and lips around her. His now free hand rose to grip her waist to help guide the pace.

These vibrations felt different compared to the raw electrical frequency that had dominated the demon’s senses the night before. It shook her deep from the inside, and all the little textured nubs lining the outside massaged her at a hundred points of contact. The further she lowered herself down, the tighter the toy began to pull. The stretch in her cunt felt delicious.

Her thighs quickened their pace. She gyrated with ambition. The woman’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, squeezed tight with ecstasy. Her big breasts hit the man on the sides of his face but he used his palm to bury himself deeper between them. The hand on her clit dipped into the pooling cum as she rode him, swirling around her nerve.

She gasped under the touch, moaning with each grind down on the silicon dick. Robin had no need to keep quiet; they were isolated enough that no one could hear her cries. The big hand traveled everywhere, down her thighs and across her backside. He gave her ass a halfhearted smack as repayment for the one she had landed earlier.

“Like you fucking mean it,” she snapped, leaning forward to bite his earlobe.

His palm made contact again, sharper and hard enough to leave a red afterglow. The demon woman moaned in pleasure under the contact. Mechanical fingers squeezed the flesh with a tight grip.

Her eyes snapped opened and her hips properly got to work, now firmly in her rhythm grinding down around him. His touch around her clitoris sped up. The machines were slower than the vibrator but still inhumanly quick. A few dozen blossoming hands reached out of the couch and grabbed any patch of his skin they could find, pulling his head out from between her breasts. Her phantom limbs held his hair tight to the head rest to better behold the sight in his lap. Robin’s real fingers traced down rivers of scarred lines.

“What’s this from?” She asked though moans of pleasure, one fingernail emphasizing a mark that ran from his ear to his collar bone.

“Got hit by a train."

“This one?” She traced his bicep from the underside of his arm to the crook of his elbow.

“Fell out of a crow’s nest.”

“This?” From his temple to his cheekbone through one sideburn.

“‘Burg hit m’ with a canon,” he melted under the numerous touches, starting to loose control.

“And?” Sternum to abdomen.

“Train.”

“Train?” Straight over one of his nipples.

“Botched piercing attempt.”

She moaned, never stopping her gyration down his length. The next touch followed the contour line of his side, down his ribs.

“Here?”

“’S where its all fused together— aaaah,” he gasped as she ran multitudinous fingers back and forth over the seam, half metal and half flesh.

“This?” She traced a long line under both pectorals

“Sold my tits to a back alley doc ages ago,” he laughed.

“Oh?” Her pace sped up, and the fingers encircling her matched the increase. She didn’t ask about the next scar, simply tracing from his hip down his thigh.

“Train, again.”

Franky’s wandering hand raised up to hold onto the side of her face, fingers knotting in black tresses and his thumb swiping along her bottom lip. She opened her begging mouth and licked him, wrapping herself around the big digit to suck. No matter how hard she tried, her parched tongue could not summon the needed moisture.

“You’re so fucking stunning,” He groaned as Robin pulled tighter through his updo. Lubricant leaked all over his lap, both hers and the remnants of his own. Franky couldn’t tear his eyes way from how her tits bounced as she ground down him.

The devil took a big gasp for air, barely able to catch her breath. She fell forward, hair dangling over the cyborg’s face. One phantom limb held her close against his shoulder. The new angle helped her to speed up, hips like lightning as she ground down on the silicon phallus.

She kissed him with ferocity, looking to drink up any condensation she could find. Breath was ragged and the air was hot. She could not quench the dry heat that evaporated every bit of essence from her.

Unsuccessful in her search, Robin sat back again, panting deeply, hips never slowing their pace. All the liquid in her body felt like it was escaping out her cunt, saving none for her survival. Thirst demanded quenching.

A demonic look flashed across her eyes, met with bewilderment from the man.

“Wha—“

That demon woman smirked and traced her many hands down his abdomen, etching sculpted muscles. Slim fingers found the correct notch and she dug in to expose his chilled stomach cavity. The man’s eyes flared with wild desperation as he helplessly watched her reach deep into his body. If she kept going at the rate she was, he was going to be tiny pieces by the time they were through.

Robin grasped the neck of one glass bottle and pulled it out with a clink. She shut the door a little harder than she probably should have, and the cyborg made a little winded sound when it slammed. The cap hooked into a little gap between metal plates on his wrist. Downward force popped the lid off with a hiss. It disappeared onto the floor, gone forever in the void. Shaken effervescence foamed out the bottle, fizzed down her hand, and spilled onto both of their conjoined laps.

She licked up the length of the glass, holding eye contact as her tongue flattened on the neck. Franky would have come right then if he were wearing the proper equipment for it.

Her lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle, tongue still swirling. She tossed her head backwards, pouring as much of the dark beverage between her lips as she could. A line of excess cola dripped down her chin. The drink finally softened her dehydration, icy cold and sticky sweet.

The man underneath her legs pursed his lips, eyes never leaving her face. As she lowered the bottle, his attention shifted away from her, flashing to the drink for only a fraction of a second.

“Oh, did you want some?” She teased, low voice pure evil with taunting. He nodded slowly in response, mouth falling open in awe. Her hips never slowed their rhythmic bouncing.

She latched her thumb in to plug the hole and shook the whole bottle vigorously, taking aim at his hungering lips. The digit in the void unplugged like a cork with a pop, shooting a load of foam and bubbles all over his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened his mouth wide, and tried to catch as much of the cola head as he could.

Franky groaned and shuddered, though his vibrations sped up with a little new vigor. The devil brought the bottle back up to her lips for a second swig of her own. As her mouth met the glass to drink, he returned the smirk and bucked his hips hard. The drink sloshed over her face and flowed in a stream down her cheek, jaw, and torso.

The cyborg laughed and leaned forward, hand steadying the small of her back. The flat of his tongue intercepted the stream of cola just above her navel and he licked up, over her stomach and between both breasts. He sucked on her collarbone, making sure none of the sticky substance lingered on her skin before continuing up the river over her jaw. His fingers never slowed their touch around her clit and the vibrations never ceased. Robin’s hips rocked down his length as she cried out, senses beginning to fail.

He licked the sugar off of her jaw. Real kisses were finally pressed into the corner of her mouth and peppered up to her temple. His favorite flavor clung to her skin. Puckering like lemon, spicy like clove, warm like cinnamon, sticky like molasses.

“I’m- Can I…?” She started to whine as he deepened his thrusts.

“Why the hell are you asking my permission? Come when you want to. Chase it if you want it,” he growled into her ear. His fingers on her nerve added pressure to their quick circles and his mouth trailed from her ear back to her breast. The buzz warmed her heart, making her glow bright. A slender, shaky hand raised the cola bottle back up, offering it to his steaming lips.

Franky wrapped his tongue around the bottle’s opening, lips suckling at the nectar. He looked up at her through his long lashes. The cyborg flashed a look of pure delight before closing his eyes in peace and drinking deeply. Big hands clenched around her hips, his throat bobbed deliciously with each pull. The speed of the vibrations increased the longer he pulled and in just a few seconds the sensation had become unbearable.

Robin’s hips crashed around the toy and she surged with a shout, orgasm engulfing her movements. She tightened around the length, gripping the silicon phallus deep within her. All the little ribbed segments of texture clawed at her from the inside. Her world exploded into a sea of stars; the eruption rang all around them. Toes curled tight as her nerves fired signals into the sky. She shook violently with release, steadied only by the mechanical hand on her waist.

Residual aftershocks twitched through her core as the devilish woman paused to catch her breath. Her hands shook, and much bigger ones caught her wrist to keep the half empty soda bottle from falling on the floor. Franky pulled it from her grip and guided her to rest against his bare chest.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“That was… wow… yeah,” he stammered at a loss for words, lifting the glass back to his lips to take a proper drink. The archeologist stole a few more deep breaths before pulling away and lifting herself off of the attachment. Her skin lingered on his, sticky from the soda, not ready to release just yet.

She turned over, finally free, and laid down length-wise on the rest of the couch. Her knees bent to give the man an accommodating amount of space.

“Lemme get you a towel,” he offered with a pat to her calves. The cyborg stood and walked to a storage cabinet, tossing a few beach towels onto the sofa to try and clean up some of the spilled cola. It was already too late- the stain of pleasure was already soaking deep into his cushions. Franky cleared the rest of the drink in his hand and put the empty bottle on his desk. Then he paused, thought for a moment, and opened the refrigerator in his chest to remove a second empty glass.

“Look at what you do to me, I’m down to one,” he laughed. Robin vaguely toweled herself off and chuckled, too. She smiled in post orgasmic glow, admiring her enhanced lover from the other side of the office. The archeologist brushed past the voice that whispered in her mind, assuring herself that she was feeling post-coital appreciation and nothing more.

“No one has ever done anything even close to opening me up in the middle of sex. You’re super wild, y’know that?” Franky kept rambling, unsure if the woman on his couch was even listening to him.

“I thought you said you hadn’t been with anyone since the accident,” she mumbled dreamily into the old cushions.

“Exactly!” He grinned.

“Do you have any other compartments?” The devil eyed him up and down.

“Oh, this whole plate lifts off,” he gestured to his pecs, “but there’s no way in hell I’m letting a chick I just met, especially a globally feared master assassin, stare at my exposed beating heart while my pants are down.”

“You're no fun,” she frowned with faux sadness. Her mind added the experience to her list of all the things she wanted to try with him, regardless of the warning.

The cyborg unclipped the toy and set it down on his desk next to his other used attachment. He walked over to pick his speedo up off the floor but frowned a bit at the mess that lingered from their first round.

“Hey, can you get the door for me?” He asked the corpse on his love seat.

She summoned a hand to open the office entrance and stood on shaky legs to follow him out of the interior room. Franky paced across the warehouse floor in only a few long strides and dove into the pool of water where ships standardly docked for repairs. He broke through the surface quickly, shaking his hair. Robin took a few steps back to avoid the splash. One mechanical hand scrubbed quickly over his chest to clear any stickiness, then massaged the swimsuit in the water, double checking that it was free of any lingering lubricant.

Franky swam back to the edge of the pool and lifted himself up to climb out. He slipped his speedo back on with a wet snap and sighed contentedly.

“You’re putting them back on already? I thought you’d have at least one more round left,” the demon eyed his wet form from her distance. A disembodied appendage tossed him a dry towel.

“Wha- oh, I mean if you wanna, sure. I just figured you were super tired after that.”

“I might need a minute, but I don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” she smiled with wicked determination. The look made him shiver. One big prosthesis found the small of her back and pulled her in tight, but he grimaced the moment he realized how sticky she remained.

“We gotta clean you off, this ain’t gonna do,” Franky mumbled close to her skin.

“You’d better not throw me into the dock. I wouldn’t be long for this world, drowning painfully and floating down the waterfall. Then where would you be? Looking for my decomposing body in the scrap heap, unable to go that extra round. Then my ghost would haunt this warehouse for the rest of your life, and you’d never forget about me,” Robin shook her head, eyes dark.

“Nah, wouldn’t dream of it. Can’t have you hauntin’ this fuckin’ haunt. ’S got too many ghosts already,” he laughed, though he wasn’t sure to the degree of his joke. His wet towel raised up to dab at the cola mess that clung to her chest. “This okay?” Her lover asked softly.

“Mmmmhmmm,” she sighed, “it isn’t enough sea water to take my strength completely.”

“Well, you just gotta tell me if you start feelin’ super woozy, yeah?”

“You’ll be the first I tell.”

Franky beaconed for them to sit on the floor. He pulled her into his lap, long legs intermingling. The towel was raised once more to wipe down very tangible arms. Her dark hair draped over his shoulder, bangs nestled into the crook of his neck.

“I shouldn’t have told you that in the middle of doin’ it, sorry,” the cyborg mumbled, mostly to himself. His eyes were glossy, like he’d disappeared into his interior world as he cleaned her off.

“What do you mean?”

“Eh?” He stirred, not fully realizing he’d vocalized the thought, “Oh. Uh. I shouldn’t have told you about who I used to be with a joke in the middle of sex. Wasn’t cool. I shoulda mentioned it last night.”

“You did, though.”

“I… uh… I did?”

“You said you used rebuilding to turn yourself into the self- made man you wanted to be, I’m smart enough to put the rest together,” Robin hummed and kissed the corner of his jaw.

“Oh.”

“Two nights ago, you told me it was never a crime to exist. That sentiment had to have come from somewhere. You’ve lived a life, I assumed you’re not the man you were just a few years ago, let alone twenty.”

He didn’t answer, simply nodded against her temple and moved the towel to wipe over her belly.

“Thank you for telling me,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

He kissed her lightly, damp hair drooping on top of her head. The devil woman couldn’t tell if it was the man, the kiss, the saltwater, or the orgasm that made her knees feel weak. Blossomed hands, trembling like a meadow in the wind, rose from the ground. They palmed over the cyborg’s bare back muscles and mimicked his motion as he wiped down her sticky legs.

“You like how that feels?” Robin sighed softly against him.

“Oh y-yeah. Feels amazing. Super good. I lo-uhhhhhh like your hands a lot,” he relaxed.

“Good, that’s good to hear. I’m glad that you feel nice.”

More lifted higher to play with his hair. Franky moaned.

“And you’re sure this doesn’t scare you?” She continued. Her real hand traveled over his shoulder, his clavicle, his pectorals.

“What? Scare me? Nah, no way. You couldn’t scare me, and even if you did, it’d be in a super hot kind of way.”

“Is that a challenge?” The devil pulled back, eyebrow raised.

“Might be. Why? What else can you do with your hands?”

“Mmmmm,” she cozied back up, “I’ve been practicing building things with them. Not just individual hands with separate tasks, but parts that make up a whole. I think it would open me up to a lot of possibilities.”

“That’s super fuckin’ radical, hell yeah, sister!”

“Sister?” The naked woman in his lap recoiled.

“Yeah I didn’t like it as soon as I said it either, sorry,” Franky laughed sheepishly. “Dunno what to call you though. Guess I could keep callin’ you by your full name, but I feel like we’re waaaaay beyond that formality.”

“True. You’ll find the right term of endearment in due time.”

“I only got a month to figure it out, super tight deadline. Whatever. What was that about buildin’ stuff with your hands?” he pivoted to keep the conversation on track. The towel ran down her calves, cleaning off the last few drips of cola.

“Mmm, yes. Well, I’ve been thinking quite a lot lately about feeling… fuzzy. If my boundaries are already soft, then I should be able to make things that transcend normal limits, yes? If all the parts work together, then I should be able to create something new. The human form is so malleable, it would be fun to play more with it.”

“Ugh, you’re a gal after my own heart,” the cyborg practically swooned. “So whatcha wanna make? You could do anything, you know.”

“I’m not sure yet. But you’ll be the first I tell.”

The towel skimmed back up her thighs to rest gently between her legs. Damp softness rubbed up against her and she squirmed closer to his contact.

“Oh? Are you already looking to keep going?” Robin chuckled. Her lips found his and pulled light groans up from his soul.

“Yeah, I’m thinkin’ I am. That fridge stunt you pulled has me feelin’ super weird. Like good weird. So if we kept playin’, it would have to be some totally freaky shit. I wanna see what you can make,” the engineer encouraged. His kiss hastened, his need grew thick.

“Freaky can be arranged,” she chuckled.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Mechanical fingers ran over the side of her face, his other hand applying light pressure between her legs. All of her little points of contact covered his back. Their gentle caresses shifted into something sharper. Nails caught on scarred skin, making him shake violently. Fingers in his hair yanked with intent. Franky breathed her in, let her fill his lungs with ease. This close, this messy after sex, and she still smelled like flowers.

“Honeysuckles and violets,” he whispered to himself between their lips.

“What did you say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

“Hm,” she twisted in his lap to deepen the connection. Tongues lapped at the residual sugar and salt.

“Hey,” the cyborg broke apart again and looked off into the distance, “so flowers. They're a sex thing, yeah?”

“What?” Robin cocked her head.

“Like on a plant. A flower is like how a plant has sex, right? I don't know much about ‘em, sorry. But I was readin’ a book on flowers this morning.”

“Oh, yes. They’re the reproductive structure,” she nodded.

“Why are they super pretty then?” He asked, pressing his forehead to her’s.

“Hmm, good question. So pollinators- like bees, butterflies and birds- can see the bright colors, even extra colors we can’t see, and that’s how they know that's where the nectar is. When they fly up looking for nectar, they get coated in pollen,” hands sprouted and tickled along the man’s fuzzy sideburns. “Then, the pollen gets carried to other flowers that become fertilized. That's what makes fruit.”

“Really? That's super cool. Wait, is pollen flower jizz?”

“Mmmm, not quite. But you're close. Technically microgametophytes. They release the sperm right at the very end, once its close to the ovary. Does that help?” The woman clarified.

“Like if a flower had a removable penis,” he joked back.

They both laughed.

“Do you want me to draw you a diagram?” Robin asked.

“Nah, I'm more of a… tactile learner,” Franky shrugged back. His palms squeezed her to back up his sentiment.

The demon woman thought to herself for a second, looking around the warehouse. She bit her lip and stood up out of the big man's lap.

“So how freaky were you saying you wanted to get?”

“Oh super freaky!”

“Even if it scared you a little bit?”

“Uh, especially if it scared me a lotta bit. Freak me the fuck out, babe. Gimme your worst. Cross the line, take it too far. You got an idea for somethin’ you wanna make?” He rolled onto his feet, too, excited by whatever she was about to propose.

Robin eyed a winch and hook bolted to the ceiling against the wall, rigging standardly used for ship repairs.

“How tall are you?” She looked over her shoulder back at the cyborg, eyeing him up. He liked the attention.

“Eight foot."

She frowned, “Don’t lie to me, you don't need to over-exaggerate.”

“Okay, eight… if you count hair. A little under seven six. Okay, seven foot four and a half. ”

Robin just laughed. A phantom hand descended from the ceiling and began to lower the hook.

“And how much can this hold?”

“About a ton. Uhhhhh, why?”

“Perfect.” Robin did not answer the demand for more information. She did, however, leave the main room and walked back into the drafting office. Franky tried to see what she was doing from the distance, though he did not dare follow. Before long, the archeologist returned holding two stolen treasures from his gun cases. One extra hand held a medium sized, sleek plug. Another carried one of his more realistic phalluses.

“Sorry, no, I’m not letting you put anything in my butt until you explain what your plan is,” Franky jogged over to meet her, eyeing up her choices.

“Oh! Apologies, I thought it was obvious. I’m going to hang you from the ceiling and explain how flowers work with all my hands,” she wiggled an uncountable number of fingers in radial display. “And then we'll get to the anal penetration.”

The self-proclaimed pervert nodded slowly as he thought through the plan. He didn’t quite know what she was describing, but he liked the vague shape of the idea. His swimsuit fell to the floor with haste. Mechanical hands grabbed the attachment from her grasp and clicked it into place. Long, thin, uncut.

“Ah, super obvious, duh. How ya gonna hang me from the ceiling?”

She smiled back at him and traced down his right bicep. Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper, “With yourself, of course. Do you have a safe word?”

His mind went blank. She was about to suck the last of his energy from him and he couldn’t even think straight. “V-violets,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Violets? That’s a terrible safe word. Do you mind if we just use standard colors?”

“S-s-sure. Yeah.”

“Good boy,” the demon teased. Her hands reached his right wrist and four extra sprouted to trace the seam.

Everything already felt weak and they hadn’t even gotten started yet. All he could do was whimper in response. Damn, she had him by the balls after just one day. Endorphins flooded his brain. Dessert, nicotine, cannabis, beer, caffeine, music, restraints, leather, latex, cum, and all those dominating hands. They swirled along his nerves like pollen in the spring air.

“This is the one with the chain, yes?” She asked through big, bright eyes.

“Y-yeah,” the cyborg gulped nervously, though his dick also twitched.

“Excellent,” she guided him to stand under the industrial hook, facing the wall. The woman kissed his cheek and ran a hand down one sideburn. Her voice was still soft and sultry in his ear as she whispered, “So, be good and unlock it for me. Now.”

He grabbed his right hand with his left and twisted hard, exposing the chain underneath. Robin grabbed the links and started to pull. The metal pooled on the ground until she had extended it as far as it would go. Extra hands brought the hook lower and she attached it through the furthest chain loop, lifting his arm above his head.

Dozens of extra limbs began wrapping the iron around his huge body, first around the other arm and then around his chest. Hips to waist, thighs to knees. She got down to his ankles before lifting the chain back up and looping the first rung on the hook next to the last. The man’s left hand curled around the right to keep it steady. All the extra hands disappeared except for the one on the winch that raised the hook higher. He’d barely left the ground when more hands flourished to hold his ankles tight.

“What do you want?” The devil asked one last time before she began.

“For you to totally scare the shit outta me. Teach me how flowers work.”

“Oh?”

“Please.”

“Good boy, he already knows his manners.”

Her main hands locked crossed in front of her bust, but many more regrew from her shoulders to replace them. Limbs similarly sprouted all over his body to pull at his long, turquoise hair.

“So," Robin began speaking, drawing a line with her finger from the cyborg’s cock to a spot on the wall at the same height. She tapped the masonry and a small bud materialized. The woman continued, almost academically, "when a plant is ready to reproduce, specialized leaves begin to grow, and the flower bud emerges from that sepal.”

The little bud grew bigger and bigger, until the individual fingers that comprised the bulb could be seen drumming against each other. Singular digits attached to growing palms as the plant increased in size. Fragments grew into full hands that then extended outwards with the assistance of sprouting forearms. The bud of writhing flesh sat two feet in diameter, though not yet close enough to touch the hanging cyborg. He rattled under his chains but made no sign of protest. The dozens of fingers already inspired him into half-erection.

Forearms gained elbows, then upper biceps. The bud swelled, now over three feet in diameter on the wall. The spot in the center where all the phalanges converged together teased just out of reach for the man. Franky tingled in anticipation.

“And then, the petals emerge,” the demon woman continued her lecture. The bud burst in a flurry of body parts, releasing an explosion of a hundred additional hands. They fanned out like a daffodil, each arm forming a segment of the massive, radial flower. As each got into position, they reached out to touch the specimen dangling from the ceiling. The many, many appendages coaxed him into a full hardness.

“Like I said, the petals are just for attracting pollinators. The true sex organs are here,” she pointed to the middle of the model plant and a second bulb-like shape grew. Six more chained hands emerged like tendrils, reaching out to caress the man’s face and neck.

The cyborg was a little scared, a little confused, and very, very turned on as he witnessed the fleshy, floral display unfold before him.

“Does my buzzy little bee want me to keep going?” Robin asked. She grabbed at his bare ass while the blossomed tendrils caressed every inch of his face.

“Yes, please. Green. More. Weirder,” he moaned around the fingers that traced his lips.

“Excellent. So, a perfect flower actually has both male and female parts. Isn't that interesting?”

The ends of the tendrils transformed from bone and nails to a whole new appendage. It was slender and soft, head poking out from under hooded skin. The new organ felt reminiscent of her clitoris, though significantly bigger. Erection strained the big cluster of nerves, growing harder against his cheek by the moment. The man looked wildly between the soft phallic-like structures and the woman who had summoned them. She chuckled low. So that’s what she’d meant when describing the malleability of the human form. Something stirred deep in his heart.

"The head of the stamen is called the anther. This structure’s job is to rub the pollen all over the pollinator."

One sensitive head prodded at his lips and he accommodated by opening up. He held her softness with his tongue, felling her grow ever harder inside his mouth. Three more stamina rubbed his face. They pressed against his cheekbones, his jaw, and down his buzzing nose. The remaining two glided along the length of his cock, more hands grinding the novel erections against his. The man groaned around her in his mouth. Drool pooled at the corners of his lips. His eyes rolled deep to the back of his head, unable to contain the delight. Terrifying, maddening, beautiful.

“A-and this here in the middle is the pistil, where the pollen gets collected later. It leads down to the ovary s-structure,” Robin tried to keep an even tone for her lesson, though the mouth pleasuring her multiple nerve endings made her squirm. He sucked harder for good measure. She was always so cute when she got flustered.

Another long hand emerged from the center bulb, reaching out to grasp around his shaft. An opening grew from the palm, labia emerging like a whole second set of petals. She took his length in one long, wet grasp. His big dick buried into her conglomerate of swirling flesh. Fingers splayed against his hips and tickled through the blue curls. He made a high pitched noise, whimpering around her soft, little cock-like stamen. A second anther raised to his lips and he opened wider to accommodate. 

Robin felt all of the sensations tenfold. Input from each nerve was amplified by sheer size and quantity. The long dick she'd taken made her readjust her stance, filled by a phantom pressure. Then, the appendage that ravaged his dick began to pump. 

“How is that?" she checked. The cyborg nodded vigorously, rubbing against more of her stamina. All the petal limbs strained to caress his tied hands, his restrained legs, his exposed abdomen. Her creation of skin absorbed him, devoured him. This flower was clearly carnivorous. A man-eating monster.

The pistil picked up speed. He tried to fuck forward with his own hips but the chains kept him immobile. The enormous flower began to move as one whole, gracing anywhere that the stamen didn't already cover. 

Robin lifted the plug she’d been saving. How she could maintain that many appendages all at once would forever remain a mystery. Her focus was admirable.

“I forgot to ask earlier, do you have a refractory period?” 

He shook his head. 

“Good. I need lubricant, so you're going to come for me," her voice was stern and dominating. He had no dreams of going against her wishes, though it was much too soon. 

The hands that extended from her real body scraped down his shoulders and the back of his waist. She landed sharp smacks to the flesh of his ass, one on each of his cheeks.

“’S t’ ‘rly,” the big man whined, though his words were muffled by his full mouth.

“I’m not repeating myself," the demon slapped the squishy backside once more. He moaned in response.

Franky finally let go, comfortable and caressed by hands touching him everywhere. For once, he felt weightless, like he was adrift in the ocean. Or perhaps he was flying through the air like a little bug. It took a lot for him to feel small. Her soft, sweet cunt wrapped around him, keeping him warm. Flesh surrounded his whole vision. He was right where he wanted to be, sucking as many of her big erections as he could fit between his lips. 

"Now," she pressed.

The petal hands converged again, clawing at his lips, tearing at his nipples, squeezing his balls. The demon woman looked like she was having too much fun torturing the life out of him. 

Her tight pistil pussy released him with a pop and he cried at the cold air. When the tendril found him again, her vulva had been replaced by a mouth. It licked around his length as she took him once more. The wetness swirled like a whirlpool, and it only took a few long sucks before he unwound. Streaks of ejaculate flowed in long bursts into her flesh flower monstrosity. 

"Good, that wasn't difficult, was it?” She mocked. The chains rattled as he shook with the orgasm, but her infernal hands never stopped to let him catch his breath. 

Robin spit dribbles of the lubricant from the stigma into her own hand, using it to coat her fingers and the plug. She passed the toy to a spare limb and cupped the man's backside with a tight grip. Her slender, wet finger found his hole and traced the circumference. It prodded to enter and he unclenched just a little bit. The single digit broke through the tight seal and inched slowly inside him. Franky wailed, overstimulated and stretched. A tear flowed down his cheek. He'd never felt so good. 

“How do you feel, my little bee?”

“Ah!” He flared. Every nerve in his wretched body had caught on fire. For the first time in a long time, he felt… alive.

“I need a color.”

“Gr’n!” The cyborg tried to turn his restrained head to catch her gaze, but his head was locked in worship to the angel of flesh that encompassed him. His efforts were in vain, until he caught a glint of something sparking like the sea. Many of the petals had grown eyes on their palms. She was watching him, staring as he witnessed her heavenly creation. Her monster stitched itself deep into his soul.

“Good, you’re doing a wonderful job.”

The finger that penetrated him reached as deep as she could get it after an agonizingly slow journey. The devil smiled and another hand smacked the bright red flesh of his ass once more. She curled her finger as the man moaned, the noise turning to another high pitched whine. Robin pulled her hand back out from inside of him, though soon a second finger joined in to circle his now much more pliant hole. Both entered and he yelled. The pistil cunt emerging from the wall found his twitching cock again. He was already straining and hard despite recent ejaculation. 

Two fingers worked him open, slowly delving further and further into his most sensitive cavity. Franky's breathing had become ragged, huffing as he licked and sucked her erect lengths. Both digits reached their maximum depth and the bent slightly. Independent, writhing movements stretched him impossibly far. The single tear became a downpour from both eyes. 

"Are you hurting?" she checked, eyeing the waterworks. 

He shook his head no. “Gr’n. Feels s’ g’d,” the cyborg tried to mutter around her many big, hard nerves.

"Then stop crying. Pull yourself together," her tone grew cold as two petal hands pinched both of his face's cheeks. It was too late, he couldn't stop crying, but he couldn't think coherently enough to convey that they were tears of joy. The hand smacked his ass again and he tightened around her fingers with another wail. This monster wasn’t easing up.

Robin’s fingers slid out of him and brought over his plug that had been waiting for its queue. He wanted to grit his teeth as the toy pressed into his stretched hole, but the sweetness that filled his mouth kept him from doing so. The silicone inched deep inside, putting pressure on all the right nerves. Once the plug had been patiently secured, the woman walked away from the body dangling from the hook. Her hand that had been working him open disappeared into petals.

The man's shaking grew more intense, his hips still trying unsuccessfully to fuck on their own into the pistil. Each time he dared to open his eyes, all he could see was writhing flesh, the general floral display now reduced to a mass of limbs. He grinned wildly and sucked her sensitive, cock-like nerves with extra fervor. The loss of form betrayed her dominant poker face; she was coming just as undone as he was. His big, quick tongue flicked over one head at a time. Little, lithe circles became long flat licks, and he caught a third nerve in his mouth to please. All he wanted to do was devote himself to this horrific angel. If he could please her, make her feel as good as she made him feel, then the worker drone had done his job.

A hands flew over Robin’s lips. She refused to drop the mask and reveal her own pleasure when she was in charge, but the little murmur escaped despite her best efforts. He chuckled around her when he heard the exclamation, much to her annoyance. She slapped his backside again for the trouble. The monster reared back, like it was preparing to take his head.

The hands holding his ankles twisted sharply, turning him in his chains around to now face away from the angel on the wall. His dick was released by the pistil, dripping fluid onto the stone floors. The tendrils and anther grew longer and followed his face as he rotated. The horrific monstrosity of limbs shifted to latch around his back and shoulders. Many hands pressed against the flared base of the toy, pushing it in deeper in quick thrusts. Moans, screams, and sobs couldn’t be dammed. They flowed from his lips and disappeared in the white noise of the waterfall.

There was no way to know how long he had been hanging there like a piece of meat as she worked his body. It felt like a decade, by his most accurate calculations. The beast of skin and bone and nails attacked every one of his squishy little places. He couldn't see it now, but could feel extra lips joining in to suck love marks across his shoulder blades and hips. 

The touch was impossible. Hands, mouths, eyes pulled him into her world. Nothing was sacred, nothing was safe. Franky’s most human bits felt possessed by this angel from hell. She had promised terrifying, and the fear knot in his balls. She was never going to let him go, and he never wanted her to. It was horrific, it was beautiful.

And then, in all the entropy, there she was. The source, the true angel, the goddess of Spring. Her eyes were heavy, arms crossed in front of those stunning breasts. The way she trembled, it was clear she was feeling just as good as he was. Perfect.

Robin knelt in front of him, hands running over the exposed and painfully strained erection. One gripped around his balls, another squeezed around his base, a third thumbed his tip. She licked up the cock with achingly slow motions before taking as much of him as she could between her lips.

The demon looked up at him through her blunt bangs as she sucked her own juices off of him. Franky's eyes were hazy as he met her glance, sucking her monstrosity off in equal response. The toy in his ass fucked deeper. One hundred hands traced every patch of sensitivity. He sped up his swirls across her erect nerves’ heads, switching between the three he was pleasing. The cyborg tried to lick all of them at once, laughing like he was playing a game. He was confused, he was terrified, he was having so much fun. The mix of joy and fear was infectious, traveling from the buzzing bee into the otherworldly flower he pollinated.

He could feel her lips tense around his cock as she blew him. Robin closed her eyes and muffled her climax, denying him the pleasure of seeing her come undone first. All the numerous anther disappeared in a puff of potpourri, however, betraying her cool to avoid further overstimulation. Mouth now free, the man grinned with the glow of accomplished pleasure. The work was over, now it was time to let the monster take him away. He relaxed into the sensation of the contact- the feeling of thousands of touches, the kiss of so many mouths, the fuck into his raw ass, and the gaze of so many eyes. The sensations filled him with sunshine and nectar. 

Franky felt like a big bomb, fuse short, ready to explode. He was prepared to take the whole warehouse out with him. The plug hit deep, thrusting against the prostate he’d worked very hard to give himself. Artificial relays interwove with every analog sensation. The freaky cyborg hit his breaking point. He screamed. The detonation went off, incinerating everything in proximity. Every feeling pent up inside of him needed an escape. Tears, shouts, emotions, and hot cum boiled over. He spilled himself across the woman's face. Thick, sweet ribbons coated her lips and chin, contrasting against her dark bangs. Franky shook violently, wrapped in his own chains, eyes squeezed shut. 

Silently, the monster behind him retreated back into the walls, from a ten food wide horror back into a bud and then, finally, nothing. Thousands of petals littered the floor and swirled through the air. The winch was released and he lowered slowly to cool his enflamed flesh on the stone floor. Franky rolled forwards, hair limp and flaccid. 

Robin used the towel to clean her face off. Once clear, she turned her attention to her lover. Gentle hands took their time loosening the chain and stroking his face. She traced the line of the restraints as she freed him. Kisses marked the contact every few feet of wrapped steel. Her hands, just the two, were calm and kind on his slicked synthetic skin. Lips pressed to each of his knuckles when his mechanical hand locked back into place. Words and thoughts felt absolutely foreign. She could have been speaking any language and he wouldn’t be able to decipher it. The cyborg blinked slowly to test that he was still alive. 

Unrestrained, Franky laid fully down on the ground. His breathing remained shallow and unsteady. The big man curled up silently on his side, practically fetal, and his companion laid down next to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him from behind. More kisses caressed the raw, bruised, and scarred skin down his back. Her body was so small cuddling him, comparatively, but she held on with a comforting squeeze. 

His bros had been right. This devil was trouble. He didn’t want her to ever let go.

A third motherfucker was right, too. He hated to admit it, but the observation was undeniably true.

I'm definitely in love. The words were the first coherent thought to echo through his chaotic, hazy mind. He didn't even have the energy to bat the impossible idea away this time. 

"Hm? Did you say something?" Robin whispered in his ear. Dull nails pulled his lifeless hair back and ran across his scalp. 

"Yeah, there's not gonna be a quiz on the flower lesson is there? I wasn't totally listening, sorry."

"We can always go over it again later." 

They both laughed. 

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Chapter Text

Luffy was awake. Luffy was awake and he wanted to party. The was a lot to celebrate, after all.

The ship of his dreams was within Franky’s grasp. He had the materials, he had the blueprints, he had the go ahead from the captain. But right when it mattered the most, something else had occupied the cyborg’s nighttime visions. That night, he’d dreamed of the monster that Robin had summoned. He was stuck in a web like a trapped little fly, as the beast of flesh clawed, licked, scratched, and flayed the skin from muscles. It revealed his under wiring, his beating heart, drained the blood from his body like cheap soda out of a bendy straw. 

He had woken up to sticky sheets and a puddle of sweat.

Even now, late in the afternoon and in the throes of the raucous party, the sight refused to leave the projection behind his eyelids. Every time he blinked a million phantom hands crawled deeper into his brain. Franky splashed his face with the cold pool water, hoping to cool his steaming blush. She was looking at him, he just knew it.

“Bro, are you doing okay?” Mozu asked with concern. She sat on the concrete rim of the pool, sipping a cold drink and kicking her feet in the water.

“Yeah, you’ve been pale since we got here,” Kiwi added with a frown, similarly poking at the waves the man was making.

“‘M fine, just, uh, stressed about the job,” Franky didn’t make eye contact with either of his sisters, staring down into the depths. Maybe the water was his escape, she couldn’t reach him under there. He took a breath and sunk to the bottom floor of the pool, eyes never closing. Dozens of partygoers’ legs kicked from the underside surface of the water, like they were beaconing towards him, too. There wasn’t any escape. He couldn’t get her out of his head.

The big man broke back up from the pool’s depths with a huff, shaking his hair to fix it back into position. Both sisters leaned back and covered the tops of their drinks to avoid the spray.

“Wait, is this about the thing I didn’t see yesterday?” Mozu poked at him with a cheeky grin. Kiwi gasped at the revelation and nodded in agreement.

“I toldja, that was nothing. I was accidentally super charming, we kissed to clear the tension, and then we got back to work. Like adults do.”

“Yeah, and we told you we’re not buying it! And you’re clearly super fucked up over something, so spill, dude!”

Franky half-rolled his eyes out of exasperation and ran one hand over the surface of the water. What was he even supposed to say? He couldn’t tell them the truth, and he wasn’t ready for the rumor to get out that they were sleeping together. This city loved to talk, and his sisters were no exception.

“We made out like teenagers and now she hasn’t even looked at me since we got to this party, happy? I don’t know what you want to hear,” he lied with a frown. It wasn’t true, none of it. They hadn’t just kissed, and while she hadn’t looked up from her book the whole event thus far, he already knew her better than that. Robin had other ways of watching.

“Yeah, it’s a party, bro. Just go over and say hi to her!” One sister scoffed at his juvenile behavior.

“I can’t do that, all her friends are here! They fucking hate me!”

“Well you better make a move soon because someone else just sat down next to her…” Kiwi gave quick commentary, spying from behind her sunglasses, “he just whispered something. She’s laughing.”

“WHAT?! Who?” Franky wasn’t shocked that a guy would approach the woman among the festivities. She was beautiful and cool, lounging under an umbrella with her book all alone. With that little dark bikini she had on, he was almost shocked she wasn’t fighting off hoards of suitors. Something pinged in his chest, but he refused to admit that it was a physical manifestation of jealousy. He was way too old to get hung up on crap like that.

“Dunno, don’t recognize him. Must be a new Galley-La hire, he looks way too green,” Mozu adjusted her sunglasses as well and took another sip.

The cyborg wanted nothing more than to spin around and break the pair up, but it wasn’t his place. Not here, not in front of everyone. He wasn’t about to ruin the vibe at the party and potentially embarrass her in front of all these people. She wasn’t his girlfriend. She was a closet hookup that had spiraled out of control and out of hand. Into hand. Hands. The monstrosity flashed through his mind again. He bet Joe Nobody Galley-La Newbie Guy couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she had to offer. This wimp wouldn’t be able to handle the demon he was flirting with. Not like him, Franky was handling it super well. He splashed himself in the face again.

“Let her flirt, whatever. It’s a party, we’re supposed to be having fun,” the man shrugged and mumbled as he swam to the rim that that his sisters sat on. He put his elbows on the ground and rested his chin on his forearms. The effect he was aiming for was more cool, but the result was significantly closer to a pout.

“She just looked over, on your seven o’clock,” one sister hissed into her cup.

Franky didn’t respond, just shrugged again and lowered his sunglasses back down. She was an adult, she was perfectly capable of handling herself. A little rustling in the bushes caught his attention, distracting briefly from the commentary his sisters offered. One pink petal fell from a plant that had no flowers. The cyborg frowned.

“Uhhh, he just moved to sit on her chair. And now he’s- oh my god- uh, I dunno, bro. I’m not liking the way he’s getting touchy feely. She’s looking a little uncomfortable. Want us to go help her out?” Kiwi frowned and shared a worried glance with her sister.

Franky squinted at the little garden bed, trying to see what was hiding from him.

“Bro?”

“Can you lend a hand? This man’s a terrible conversationalist and I need an out,” Robin’s whispered voice was crystal clear in his ear but unheard by his companions. Franky spun, creating a little whirlpool of chlorinated water that radiated outwards. His hand flew to the spot below his left ear, but he was too slow to catch where the words had come from. Three little petals floated on the surface of the pool.

“I’ll be super quick,” the cyborg waved to his sisters and swam to the other side of the pool. He put both big hands on the lip of the stone and hoisted his drenched body out of the water. Franky grabbed the beach towel draped over the sun lounger next to Robin, not caring who’s it was originally. He turned, acting like he’d just noticed where she was seated.

“Whoa, hey, Robin! Glad I bumped into ya! Super cool party you guys are throwing,” his words were kind but his tone was layered with an air of gruff intimidation. He felt a hundred feet tall, back lit by the setting sun, shadow cast over the loser getting way too handsy. The sleazy dude leaning in on Robin’s personal space, hand a little too high on her knee, looked up in fear like he was witnessing a giant.

“Oh, throwing a good party is one of our specialties,” the woman gazed up over the top of her sunglasses with a bit of relief in her light eyes. One phantom limb slapped the guy’s hand off of her. He knew she could handle the situation herself, but he was still happy to offer backup.

“H-he-hey I didn’t realize you k-kn-knew F-Franky,” the man trembled a little. The infamous cyborg in question smirked, happy for once that his reputation preceded him.

“Oh, him? We go way back. He’s a very good, reliable friend. Do you two know each other?” Robin inquired with a false naiveté.

“N-n-n-n-n-no we’ve never, uh,” the guy sweat. Franky turned up the pressure, shifting his towel to dry his dripping swim briefs, one foot up on the chair. He knew it was a bit too much, intentionally unintentional in the manhandling of his Intimidation Dick in front of this stranger’s face.The goal was not to convey possessiveness- he hadn’t claimed Robin for his own- but much closer to a big dick poker bluff. Get with it or get lost. Joe Nobody had set the blind without looking at his cards, and who was Franky not to raise the bet? He could never resist a good gamble. These were the high limit tables, after all. The message was immediately clear- the guy’s emotions instantly betrayed his fear of the bigger man. He couldn’t ante up. Fold.

“So, what’s your name, bro?” Franky reached out with his free hand to greet the trembling shrimp. Freaking this dude out was a mercy. If the situation had escalated, the demon would have probably just snapped his neck.

“I- uh, ooo I think I uh, can hear my snail calling, I better go answer. Nice meeting you, R-R- Miss Nico. See you around,” the loser retreated faster than he’d descended, scurrying off into the partying masses.

“What the hell’s his deal? I was tryin’ to be friendly,” the cyborg laughed and took a seat on the adjacent lounger.

Robin let out a long sigh and closed her book. She swapped it for the fruity mixed drink that rested on the little wicker side table.

“Thank you,” her voice was soft and low, “I thought he was never going to leave, and he was starting to not take no for an answer.”

Her companion shrugged, smiled, adjusted his sunglasses, and laid back on the lounger like he was taking a nap.

“Well, if he comes back to try that crap again I can kill him super dead, just give me the word. Unless you wanna do the honors first. Not gonna deny a pretty lady the thrill of a good murder.”

“Ugh what the hell is he doing? Move it, asshole!” Nami fumed into the remnants of her drink. The cook appeared with a swiftness to his step, pitcher ready for the refill.

“~Oh, Nami-swan!~”

“Calm down.”

He settled and poured more sangria into her glass. She still didn’t look happy, even as her mouth idly returned to pull at the straw. A deep frown etched into the navigator’s beautiful face and her eyes stayed locked at the other end of the pool. “What is it?” Sanji asked in a much more even tone, “what are you looking at?”

He followed her line of sight and immediately put the pieces together. Franky was all up in Robin’s space, again. All that wonderful woman wanted to do was read her book in peace, but that oaf wasn’t giving her any room to breath.

“We’re sleuthing,” replied a voice from the bushes. The blond man peered out of his peripheral vision, wary of anyone hiding in the bushes next to Nami, but the nose poking through the leaves gave the culprit away.

“Sleuthing? Making sure that bastard doesn’t try any shit?” Sanji frowned. He might have developed a little empathy for the cyborg, but not nearly enough feel great about the situation. The two on the other side of the pool were talking about something, laughing, reclining in each others presence. Maybe Robin could use a refill on her sangria, too. No, she looked happy with the conversation. It wasn’t his place to split them up. Yet.

“How much has Robin mentioned to you since we got back to town?” The redhead asked, pointing at the open chair next to her. The cook sat down, setting his pitcher in the middle of the table.

“About Franky?”

“No, about her mystery man,” Usopp injected from the bushes. He held out an empty cup too, making a vague gesture for a refill. Sanji sighed but obliged.

“Mystery man? Robin’s got a mystery man?”

“Yeah!” Chopper stood up on his seat to join the conversation as well, “Nami said she snuck out the night we got back to go on a date!”

“She went on a date?! With a mystery guy?!”

“Shhhhh keep it down!” Nami hissed, “yeah. She went out with a guy. I was really worried, especially after we found out that Franky killed someone at a different bar on the same night, but she said she had a nice time.”

“Did she mention anything when she spent the day with you yesterday?” The reindeer asked the cook.

“N-no, she didn’t say anything. She’s… she’s really seeing someone?” He reeled.

The bush rustled,“yeah. We think he might be here at the party, so keep an eye out for anyone suspicious.”

“We’re looking for a guy who’s tall, smart, funny, unique, and a good conversationalist. That’s all we have to go off of,” Detective Chopper nodded with all the seriousness in the world.

“The last guy was pretty suspect. I don’t know how smart or funny he was, but I think he looked pretty tall?” Usopp leaned forward to get a better look.

“Wait, who?” The cook cocked his head.

“We don’t know, we think he works for Galley-La. Blue shirt, somewhere around here,” Nami waved vaguely at the crowd. “He sat down a minute ago with her, overly familiar, kind of handsy. They talked for a bit but we couldn’t see too well from over here. He’s the best lead we have so far. Until-.”

“Until Franky scared him off,” the voice from the bush interjected.

The navigator still fumed, “I’m going to kill him, I swear. It doesn’t matter how much free stuff he gives us, if he lays one hand on her he’s dead.”

“Yeah! We’ll kill him!” Chopper followed along.

Sanji fumed, “What the hell does that asshole think he’s doing! He told me he wasn’t going to- if he gets in the way of her happiness I’ll- He’d better not- ooooooh!”

“Wait, what’d he tell you?” Three sets of eyes snapped to the cook.

“Ugh! Okay. Promise you won’t tell? I don’t want this getting back to her and freaking her out,” the blond man shook his head.

The doctor pointed a hoof, “spill it!”

“He’s into her. Like, really into her. Essentially in love with her, from what it sounds like.”

“Franky?!”

“No way!”

“How’d you find that out?” Nami stared.

“Those square girls told me, but I asked him and he confirmed it. He said all he wants to do is sit next to her and make her laugh or something,” Sanji shrugged. It seemed like a boring way to try and get with a lady. Beautiful women needed to be wooed with grand displays of affection, in his humble opinion.

“What?!” All three friends balked.

“Yeah, but he said he doesn’t really want to act on it because we’re leaving town once the ship’s done.”

“Oh, she’s going to break his heart,” the navigator shook her head solemnly.

“That’s what I told him!”

“Does he know that she’s seeing someone?” Usopp asked from the foliage.

“Not sure. He probably wouldn’t be flirting so hard if he knew, but he might also be playing jealous guard dog. If her man’s at this party, he’ll have to be tough enough to push past that brute,” the blond lit a fresh cigarette, much to the reindeer’s displeasure across the table.

“Franky’s tall,” Chopper thought aloud, “and… unique.”

“Uh, sure, if by unique you mean total freak,” Sanji scoffed.

“He’s a decent conversationalist,” the bush nodded in agreement.

“Don’t give him credit for that! You talked to him, what, once? When he took you as a hostage?” Nami snapped back.

“It was a good talk!”

The redhead brushed off the defense, “but he’s not smart. And he’s not funny.”

“… She thinks he’s funny,” the blond grumbled to himself. He bit on the filter of his cigarette, thinking hard.

“And he’s smart enough to build us a boat!” The little deer hopped.

“No way!” Nami and Sanji shouted at the same time, loud enough that strangers turned to look at them.

As if on queue, Robin’s soft chuckle floated over the noise, across the pool yard like petals on the wind. The cook’s heart stammered, his eyes practically turned into hearts.

“It can’t be him, he has an alibi for the night she went out on her date,” Usopp postulated.

“Committing a murder is his alibi?” The blond frowned with incredulity.

“It’s not him. He can be into her all he wants, but there’s no way she’s reciprocating. I just hope he doesn’t retaliate when she rejects him,” the young woman reiterated, head in her palm, “I can’t blame the guy for falling for her, though. She’s beautiful, she’s strong, she’s smart-.”

“She’s sexy, she’s funny, she’s a joy to be around, every day with her is a blessing in this hell of a world,” Sanji kept the praise train rolling with romance in his eyes. 

“She’s nice! And she gives really good hugs!” Chopper continued, though he missed the more amorous nature of the compliments.

“She’s terrifying! She’s so scary and she’s always watching!” Usopp shivered from the dirt patch. “She’s got to be listening in on us right now!”

“That pervert’s probably just into her for her hands, he doesn’t love her like we do,” Nami steamed in her feelings.

“Her hands,” the cook sighed wistfully. He melted like fondue on the table.

The bush slapped him back to attention, “so what do we do about this?”

“I don’t know! We could kill him?”

“We could kill him!” Nami echoed excitedly.

“Yeah!” The deer cheered.

“Or… we don’t do that!” Usopp shook both hands, trying to get his friends to pick a different option. That plan hadn’t worked well for him the first time he tried it, and they needed that free boat desperately.

“Well, what if we find her mystery man and tell Franky she’s seeing someone else?” Chopper suggested.

Nami lit up, “Ooooooh, yeah! That could work! He’d back off, and then she’d be free to be with her guy in peace while we’re stuck in town!”

“It’s a big gamble, but it might just work!” The bush nodded quickly.

“We raise the stakes,” Sanji exhaled cooly.

Their little reindeer smiled wide and jumped for joy, “Yeah! Let’s up the ante!”

“Wait,” the young woman paused and stared at him, “who taught you how to play poker?”

“You’re being watched,” Robin whispered under her breath without looking up from her book, “and talked about.”

“Eh, whatever,” Franky put his hands behind his head as he lounged in the golden sunlight, “let ‘em talk. People still think I killed someone at the bar the other night. And shot the mayor. What’s a few extra rumors?”

He was glad there was no way to distinguish sweat from the pool water that dripped along his hairline. The two fell back into comfortable silence, soaking in the party’s ambiance.

The sound of cautious hooves grew closer, and both adults looked over their dark sunglasses at the little reindeer approaching.

“Well, hello, doctor,” the woman smiled and tucked her book away from view.

“Hi, Robin! Are you having fun?” Chopper’s eyes were big, like he was going out of his way to look extra cute.

“Oh, so much fun. This is a wonderful party, isn’t it?”

“Yeah! Sanji made really yummy snacks. And I got these little floaties in case I fall in the pool!” The deer giggled and hopped onto her lap. He cuddled up against her cheek and she ran a long pat down the side of his fur. Chopper rubbed his little blue nose, crinkling it as she got close.

“Well, maybe you can ask Zoro if he’ll help you float too? I’m sure he’d be happy to,” Robin offered.

“Yeah, and if he’s super grumpy, I’d help ya, gorilla-bro!” Franky jumped in on the conversation. His geniality wasn’t fully reciprocated just yet.

The hesitant reindeer frowned a little bit and cuddled up closer to the archeologist. “Oh, yeah okay. If Zoro can’t do it, I guess can ask you… Thank you,” he hiccuped, remembering his manners.

The three sat watching the partiers splash in the pool, the doctor’s envy clear to everyone in the vicinity. All he wanted to do was play. Chopper stood up in Robin’s lap and hugged her deeply. His cheeks squished against hers.

“Okay, I just wanted a hug. I’m going to get another snack! Do you want me to bring you anything?”

“That’s alright, I’m not hungry. But thank you for the offer, you are very kind,” The woman fluffed the fur on his forehead with a soft laugh.

“Awww, stop it you jerk!”

The reindeer hopped off of the sun chair and landed in the gap between the two occupied loungers. He turned to the man resting and leaned into his personal space, eyes squinting.

“Uhhhhh, yeah?” Franky lowered his sunglasses to look the doctor in the eyes.

Chopper just sniffled and rubbed his nose again. “You smell like sugar. And spices. And… flowers,” he muttered in a little voice.

“Uhhhhhhhh. What?”

The youngest pirate didn’t clarify. He turned with a wave and began to waddle away. “Okay, bye Robin! See you later!” Chopper called.

“Hmm. How odd,” she mused as the tiny reindeer departed.

“The hell was that about? I thought we were cool?” The man looked a little bruised by the interaction.

Robin just chuckled to herself as she pulled her book back out from under her unused towel. An extra hand held her drink as she returned to her marked chapter.

“So how’s your book?” The man took a stab at a neutral and friendly icebreaker. He could chat without getting worked up and flirty. He could be super normal. Just a regular guy being normal at a regular pool party. His eyes caught the third arm and the demonic angel he witnessed flashed through his mind again. There was no water to cool him off now. He was in too deep.

“Mmm, it’s fine. A bit pulpy for my tastes, but a fun read. I was looking for something light and quick, and this fulfills that,” she turned the page.

“What kind of book is it?” The normal man asked regularly.

“Fiction,” the woman’s tone was flat, her word quick.

“Fiction? Do you like fiction?”

“Sometimes. When the mood strikes. This one’s a romance.”

“Romance? Now, I remember you telling me that wasn’t really your thing,” Franky smirked. So much for regular conversation.

“Well, like I said. When the mood strikes.”

“So would you consider yourself… stricken?” He kicked himself for giving into the first temptation to flirt that appeared. Too late to take it back.

Robin didn’t respond. Her sunglass-covered eyes glanced over the top of the binding. Franky knew he was being eyed up even if he couldn’t tell exactly what she was looking at. He stretched with a casual flex and relaxed deeper into the lounger. Secret fingers wormed in the pocket of air between the cushioned back of the chair and the cyborg’s spine. They hooked into the top hem of his swimwear and snapped the spandex a little too roughly. He coughed to cover his yelp, backside still a bit sore.

“I wouldn’t consider myself the one struck, no,” the woman said cooly, eyes returning to the page, “In any case, it might not end with actual romance. Right now it’s mostly just erotica.”

“Erotica?”

“Yes, I’m just at the beginning of the second act. I still don’t know how it’s going to end. That’s the fun part about fiction, you never truly know the conclusion until you reach it.”

The man frowned and leaned across the seat to look closer at the book. He raised his sunglasses and squinted at the text. Occipital sensors scanned the page quickly. Sucked… bit… licked… pumped… moaned…

“Oi, that’s porn!” He pointed.

“Yes, what did you think erotica meant?”

“But… But you’re reading it in public?”

She just laughed, licked a finger lightly, and used it to turn the page. He was glad he’d thought ahead and foregone an attachment with capillary hook ups. An unfortunate boner at the pool party was definitely not in his plans.

“Well, uh. I think I’ll let you enjoy your book in peace,” Franky turned to sit sideways on the lounger. The hand tracing the small of his back disappeared.

“Thank you for such consideration. I’ll be sure to let you know if I find a particularly good chapter. I’d even be willing to leave this little celebration early to discuss the reading further, if you’d be interested.”

“Wha— oh! Like… themes?”

“Themes, metaphors. Technique. Position. However the mood strikes. I’ll tell you when I’m feeling ready to leave.”

“I’ll be waiting for your queue, then,” the man laughed and stood up. He felt hot, something was definitely overheating internally but he couldn’t identify what or where. Soaking up the golden sunshine was only half his problem, and he needed to cool off before he started loosing mechanical control. Franky paced to the pool and dropped in, trying to keep the splash low and a respectful distance away. The water displaced from seven feet and a quarter ton of metal made waves regardless of his best efforts.

“Sorry, hope you didn’t get too wet,” he winked, arms gripping the rim before kicking off and swimming away. He never got to see Robin bury her blush deeper into the pages.

Chopper hopped back into Nami’s lap and shook his head, mumbling, “Nothing new, she just smells like how she’s smelled the last few days. I don’t know if I like sleuthing.”

“Well that isn’t helpful! Are you positive there isn’t anything new? No one?”

The doctor sighed, “Well, okay. I couldn’t tell. It’s confusing.”

“What’s confusing? Just go smell everyone else at the party and tell us who matches the scent!” Usopp chimed in from his hiding spot.

“That’s not fun!” The little deer whined, “And I don’t need to smell everyone. I just don’t know if I took a bad sample or something.”

“Did she smell like anyone new or not?” Sanji snapped in frustration.

“Well, okay. So she smells like her. And she smells like us. But she also smells a lot like Franky. He smells like soda pop, I think? He smells a lot like her, too. But he was sitting next to her, so maybe she just smelled like that because he was right there? I don’t know, it might have been covering up anyone else in the mix,” Chopper was starting to tear up.

“She did spend all day working at his place yesterday. Maybe that’s part of it too,” Sanji frowned into his cigarette. The doctor batted at the drifting smoke to disperse it.

“Ugh!” Nami yelled in frustration, “that asshole’s going to make this impossible to figure out! How are we supposed to track down her new guy now?!”

“What the fuck is he doing? What did we tell him?! She’s bad news!” Paulie puffed on the end of his cigar. A vein twitched through his forehead, his eyes remained trained on the big, blue cyborg that swam across the company pool.

“What are you getting worked up about?” Iceburg frowned, turning away from his numerous other conversations. It wasn’t easy to be the most popular man in town. Ever since his assassination scare, it felt like everyone wanted a piece of his time. His lack of assistant to turn the nosy inquirers away didn’t help, either.

“It’s fucking Franky again! Do you know what he was doing?”

“What?”

“He was talking to Nico Robin, that’s what! Hanging all over her! They were laughing.”

“No,” the mayor groaned and swiveled fully to watch with his foreman.

“And just look at what that woman is wearing!”

“Alright, it’s a pool party, Paulie. A woman can wear a bikini.”

The gruff shipwright fumed through his blush, though he didn’t say anything further. Both of the Galley-La men squinted from their table, trying to align the pieces.

“Why was he talking to her?” Iceburg muttered to himself.

“Because he isn’t listening to us! We told him to stay away from that devil woman! Something else is going on here, I know it…”

The mayor chewed his bottom lip. Tyrannosaurus ran over the table, nibbling on hors d’oeuvres and bits of spare roughage.

“Mister Mayor! Mister Mayor! What is being done about the incident the other night at Blueno’s? Is it true that Franky was behind the attack? Are other businesses at risk? And is it also true that the pirate that made an attempt on your life is still at large?” A curious bystander asked.

Paulie scoffed at the barrage of questions.

“I assure you,” Iceburg answered politically, “we will be launching a full investigation into this heinous act of vandalism. We are keeping a very close eye on the suspects in both crimes. Galley-La has eyes and ears all over this city.”

Franky found a little table in the corner of the pool yard to try and separate himself from the masses. He put his plate of food and his cola down, eyes scanning the crowd. It hadn’t been his intention to look for a spot with a perfect view of the woman laid out on the sun lounger, now on her stomach to keep the tan even. He wasn’t about to complain about his choice either, though.

The sunlight was just barely starting to fade. It wasn’t quite yet sunset, but the shadows of the tall buildings were growing long. Less and less partiers occupied the pool. The music was loud, the people were dancing, and the booze was flowing. He had to admit it, the skinny cigarette addict knew how to cook some fucking barbecue.

The cyborg grabbed his beverage, but the moment his lips met the bottle his brain flashed a vision of getting sprayed in the face the day before. The memory of her hands reaching into his open chest as she rode him was going to linger. He groaned and put the drink back down, unsavored. Nico Robin was everywhere, she was in every corner of his mind, in his veins, in his heart. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do once she left town. Material for the bank on future lonely nights was one thing, but now he couldn’t even drink a cold beverage without thinking about her ripping him open. He had it worse than he thought.

And that was before even starting to unpack the emotions part. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he’d caught feelings. Okay, he could believe it but he didn’t have to like it. This was supposed to be easier. Casual. Cooler. He felt fifteen when he’d stayed up late the other night, doodling all the little things he wanted to make for her. Hopefully she wasn’t so keenly omnipotent that she’d spoiled her surprise as he drafted it. If he could pull this off, it was going to blow her away. Boom.

His thoughts drifted back to his house in ruins. His office was still a mess, his couch was now soaked in liters of cola and a really embarrassing cum stain. The memory of the flower flesh monster haunted his mind once more. He shook his head violently to clear the vision.

“Are you alright? You look like you’re losing your mind,” a calming voice whispered in his ear, as she had earlier. The cyborg nearly jumped out of whatever skin he had left.

“Fuck! I need like, a warning before you do that,” Franky hissed, unsure if the communication worked two ways. His hand once again flew to his neck but the mouth was quicker, and he slapped himself in the jugular like he was hitting a mosquito.

“Is this better?” Robin offered into his other ear as a hand sprouted under the table. It tapped his knee and held out a dry, rolled towel. She gestured for him to put it over his hips.

“What sorta game are you planning now?” the man kept his voice low but his eyes searched quickly from behind his sunglasses. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, appearing to be caught up in her book. Franky couldn’t tear his eyes from the curve of her ass, unable to believe she had ever let him get close to touching her. He also couldn’t begin to comprehend how many hidden eyes she possibly had trained on him.

“Just put the towel on, I won’t bite. Though I know you do,” she laughed.

“Ay, only when I’m all chained up.”

“Hm, I think I remember you in chains quite differently.”

She wasn’t making this easy for him. The cyborg grabbed his abandoned beverage on the table and drank half in one long chug. He slammed the glass bottle down and took the extended towel, draping it with an almost comedic gentleness around his waist. His knees opened a little wider and he folded his arms in a ‘don’t fucking talk to me’ stance. The privacy granted at a bustling party where all but three people hated him felt a little freeing.

“How suspicious do I look?” He asked, trying to find just one hidden eye.

“You look halfway murderous, halfway like you’re covering an embarrassing erection. Like an angry pervert hiding in the corner of what is very technically a work party.”

“Oh super, that’s exactly the vibe I was aiming for!”

She laughed, not in his ear but across the pool from him. Her backside shook just a little with the amusement.

“So what were you thinking so hard about?” Robin inquired. A hand sprouted under his freshly arranged towel and traced up his calf.

“Ehhh, I’m still trying to figure out how to clean my damn couch. Do you have any recommendations for removing two liters of cola from upholstery?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve ever encountered such an issue. But I’ll keep my eyes out for a book on the subject if you’d like? Though my better suggestion might just be to buy a new sofa. Or maybe you could make one.”

“Oh, you bet your ass I could figure out how to build a super fucking sofa! And I’d make it waterproof next time too.”

“You shouldn’t make bets for other people if you can’t ante up yourself.”

The archeologist laying on the chair looked directly at him over her shoulder, bikinied butt in the direct line of eye contact. A blur of flip flops and cutoff jorts sprinted along the edge of the pool between them but her gaze never faltered.

The hand under the towel traced the line of his calf to his inner thigh. Another squirmed under his shirt and prodded at his aching rear muscles. A shiver ran through the cyborg’s big body. She was right, there was no way he’d be able to bet his own ass in the state she’d left it. The woman laughed again and turned back to her book.

“So speaking of hidden perverts at the function, how’s your porn book going?” He bit back.

“This chapter’s been very boring so far. It’s a lot of missionary. And I believe this author is a man, there’s been a bit too much focus on breasts, but not in a fun way.”

“Ugh, what kind of sick fucking perv would write a hundred pages about boobs?”

She chuckled. He was on a roll.

“Well, it isn’t the breasts themselves, it’s the way he describes them. I think I would hate to be described as having ‘two pillows of yeasted dough, risen and ready for kneading.’”

“Damn, did you look at my list of dirty talk ideas? Now I gotta find all new words!” His tone was ladened with sarcasm.

“I don’t think you could come up with anything worse,” she whispered, a half-challenge. Which meant it was a full-blown- challenge.

“Don’t play the juvenile boob slang game with me, I’ll win ever round,” he raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses.

“Is that a bet?”

“Oh, I can come up with something waaaaay worse than yeasty pillows, totally.”

“And the wager?”

“If I can properly surprise you, we’re out of here in five minutes. For private time, with the, uh, honey glazed ham-hammocks.”

“Close, but not the worst. You have yourself a deal,” she hummed and the hand under the towel made light contact with the speedo.

“That’s not going to do anything, nothing’s attached,” the man looked down and adjusted himself so the movement between his legs wouldn’t be too noticeable.

“Oh, this is for me. But you can enjoy it if you want,” she bullied back.

“What about juice buckets?”

Robin laughed in his ear but she looked off to the side towards her friends.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. That one was worse, but not a good kind of worse. Is it possible to move your mouth less when you talk? Nami just asked Usopp why you’re sitting alone in a corner looking angry and talking to yourself.”

“Oh, lil bro Usopp’s here? Where’s he at?”

“If I’m not mistaken, he’s hiding in the bushes at your two o’clock,” she whispered. Franky followed the line of her real body’s gaze to a figure hunched in the plants chugging a fruity cocktail.

“He doesn’t have to hide, we talked it out! We’re chill!” The cyborg frowned at the cowering boy, squinting to see him better in the shadows.

“You’re not the one he’s hiding from.”

The sound of flip flops in full sprint clattered back around. Luffy bolted past again, two inflatable tubes around his waist, floaties around each arm, hands full of hot grilled meat.

“Don’t stare, you’re freaking Nami out,” Robin corrected.

“Don’t talk with my mouth, don’t look with my eyes, what the hell am I supposed to be doing? Sorry I can’t be all seeing like some people,” he rolled his eyes with an involuntary shudder as a second hand ran up his thigh.

“Just sit there, drink your beverage, look pretty, and come up with silly words for breasts,” one hand pat his knee.

“Ow, you really got me pegged, huh?” He smiled and raised the cola glass for a drink.

“Well, we got close yesterday, but I’d still like to give the full hardware a test once you’re feeling better,” she smirked behind his ear and the hand on his back poked at his soreness once more. The man choked on his drink and spilled down his front.

“I’ve never met anyone in the world like you, ya know that?” He laughed and raised the protective towel to wipe himself down.

“And you never will again once I’m gone,” the archeologist smiled back, but her words served as a dark reminder for the limits of time. There was a long pause as they both looked for the right words.

Unfortunately, the pervert found his first. “Buttered baked potatoes?” He suggested, “Velvet udders? Creamy bindles?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, you heard me, creamy bindles. Teat coke, milky snow, lacta-crack,” he repeated. Franky raised his hands to make a gesture like he was cupping two large breasts in front of his own chest. Phantom limbs sprang up to pull him back down by the wrists before he could finish the mime. He smiled triumphantly.

The woman laying on the lounge chair across the pool rolled over and tucked her book under her arm. She did not look pleased.

“Fine, yes, that is definitely worse than yeast pillows. Not by a lot, but a win is a win,” Robin sighed.

“In this line of super serious work? A win is a win is a win is a win. Let’s blow this joint!”

“Stay seated!” She hissed in his ear, arms pushing him further into the chair, “we can’t leave at the same time, especially when we’re under such strict surveillance. You leave in five minutes, I’ll leave in fifteen. Meet me at my crew’s quarters. Don’t say bye to anyone, just disappear.”

“Awww but what will the people do without the life of the party?”

“I’m sure they’ll compensate somehow,” the distant woman stood from her seat and stretched. She pulled her swimsuit cover back on and adjusted her sunglasses. An extra hand picked up her half-finished cocktail. Franky never felt the lips leave his neck, but he did feel the little pink petals fall down his shoulder.

The archeologist walked the long way around the edge of the now-empty swimming pool, not directly towards her friends but in a path that would have her pass right past his little table tucked away in the corner. The water was placid and sparkled with the setting sun. Her sunglasses were dark but the man knew she had her eyes fixed straight on him, unwavering on her journey. They were both so focused, neither heard the doppler of sandal slaps.

Luffy wasn’t looking where he was running, either. His head was turned over his shoulder, making a taunting face at the shouting cook.

Robin crashed violently into the sudden wall of burning rubber and inflatable tubing.

All the kinetic energy of the captain’s powerful sprint traveled into her at full force, throwing her into the pool’s deep end before she had any chance to hold onto something. The splash was loud enough that every partygoer rubbernecked to the source, quieting the commotion.

“Huh? Wha’ was that?” Luffy screeched to a halt and looked for whatever he’d hit.

“Who just fell in?” A stranger shouted from the bar.

“Shit,” Franky was on his feet in less than a second, pushing the table out of the way and running to the water. Sanji and Zoro were still counting heads by the time the mechanical man had reached the edge of the concrete and dove without hesitation, plummeting straight down into the depths. 

It took a moment for his eyes to get acclimated to the shadowy deep end. The woman’s limp body sank like a rock to the tiles at the bottom of the pool. Her eyes were closed and sizable bubbles of air escaped her lungs at a rapid pace. In just a few powerful kicks, the man had his big hands wrapped around her waist. He braced against the underwater floor and pushed straight up, pulling her to the surface as quickly as he could.

The two crashed through the tense film of the water with a heavy gasp. Robin was breathing shallow, quick breaths through water logged coughs. But she was breathing.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, you’re alright. I got you. You’re alright, you’re alive. It’s okay. I’m right here,” Franky whispered.

The big cyborg was never good at hiding his emotions. He couldn’t help expressing his relief at her safety, pressing his face reassuringly into the woman’s wet bangs. His adrenaline heartbeat, caffeine infused panic, and viselike grip around her torso began to relax with each inhale of fresh oxygen. The man held her close and tight for the briefest of moments before all hell inevitably broke loose. She shook under his fingertips, trembling with cold and shock and oxygen depravation.

His nose brushed her temple and the buzzing filled the woman’s mind. That frequency sang like the ringing of a wine glass in a dark bar. Like the ringing in her ears from the sudden pressure change. Like the cacophony of the crowd all yelling at once.

All eyes were on them.

“ROBIN!”

“Wait, that was Robin?”

“Oh my god, Robin!”

“Robin, are you okay?”

“Roooooobiiiiin?!”

“No!”

Her entire crew and many countless strangers raced to crowd in on the edge of the deep end. Sanji’s jacket was halfway removed. Chopper was at the forefront of the pack, clearing the way.

“Give her some space!” He yelled, but his little voice couldn’t break through the crowd. The doctor shifted into Heavy Point and pushed the masses back with force, supported by the cook and the navigator. Luffy threw his floatation gear off and crouched at the edge of the water, beaconing for the cyborg to swim towards him. The captain’s face was deeply worried and his eyes were large with regret.

Franky set her wilted form on the ground with ginger care. Robin still sputtered and gagged on the chlorine in her lungs, but she had the strength to prop herself up on both hands.

“Luffy what the hell did you do?!” The cook asked, tongue sharp like a knife.

“Robin, I didn’t mean to! I’m so sorry!” Luffy pressed in too close.

“Get out of her face!” Nami hit the captain, sending him flying in the opposite direction, into the bushes.

“I’m alright,” the archeologist held up a hand and rolled onto her knees.

“Robin, my love, what do you need? How can I help?” Sanji begged, draping his suit jacket over her heaving shoulders.

“Let me check her vitals! Sanji MOVE IT!” Chopper yelled.

“I’m alright, really,” she assured, though her voice was weak.

“Hey,” Franky interrupted from the pool, worried but surprisingly soft, “you really should let them look after you.”

“I’m-,” she sighed, turning to catch the concerned looks of her nakama. The devil’s gaze ended over her shoulder, looking back at her rescuer maintaining his tread in the deep end. Everyone was so worried about her, everyone’s eyes were wet and tender. She’d never meant to make such a mess. Robin bit her lip and nodded, resigning herself to being cared for.

The man turned and swam away from the massive crowd, pulling himself up onto the ledge away from the noise.

“Hey,” Zoro cornered him, “Thanks.”

“Yeah, bro, no problem. Just glad she’s safe,” Franky waved nonchalantly over his shoulder and walked off towards the pool yard’s gate. He left big, wet footprints in his wake.

“Ay, you’re leaving? Just like that?” The swordsman called after him.

“Yeah, bro, I got somewhere to be in fifteen minutes.”

He left without saying any goodbyes, disappearing as promised.

Robin was having a hard time shaking Nami off of her. The little redhead hugged tight and refused to loosen her grip, no matter how much she was reassured that the archeologist was safe.

“We could have lost you! You could have drowned!” She sobbed into the older woman’s shoulder.

“But you didn’t lose me. I’m alright, I was rescued before anything could happen.”

“I’m going to kill Luffy for that. And I’m going to kill Sanji for not being faster. Ohhhh Robin, are you sure you feel alright?”

A spare hand pat the orange tresses and the devil woman nodded with soft reassurance. “I’m feeling fine now, just a bit tired from the shock. Really.”

“I was so worried!” The girl whined, iron claws tightening.

Robin didn’t know how she had ended up comforting someone else over her own harrowing experience, but her hands continued to pat on instinct. Her mind still felt like it was drowning in a million thoughts, so far from the light of epiphany.

“If it’s alright, I think I might go rest for a little bit. I need to lay down after… everything,” the dark haired woman said with a kind smile.

“Yeah, we can totally go to back to the bunks,” Nami’s grip didn’t shift.

“No, I mean I think I want to be, well, alone.”

“What?! No way you’re going to be alone after that!”

“Nami, I assure you, I will not drown in my bed. I just want to have some quiet space, shower off the chemicals, and finish my book.”

Robin stood from her chair at the crew’s table. Chopper had finished his quick assessment and verified that none of her vitals had been damaged. The only sign of injury was her beating headache, but that may have just been from the alcohol and the music.

“Your book! Where did it end up?” The navigator spun, looking on every chair and under the table for the pulp novel. The other woman used the momentary distraction to free her arm and crept silently towards the path back to their temporary quarters.

“It’s somewhere around here, maybe someone’s seen where it landed?”

“Hey! I can see you sneaking off!” Nami turned with ferocity in her eyes, cornering Robin halfway out the gate.

“I just need to get away from the noise, please. I’ll feel better if I’m off on my own for a little bit.”

“You’re not avoiding us, are you?”

“I’m not avoiding you, no.”

“But is there someone here you are avoiding?” The girl leaned in with a curious look.

Robin looked around at the partiers. She wanted to avoid the excessive doting. She wanted to avoid the loud music. She wanted to avoid the firecrackers that kept firing off. She wanted to avoid the stranger that had failed miserably to flirt with her. But it was who wasn’t at the party that made her want to leave the most.

“I just need to collect my thoughts, that’s all,” she frowned.

“You’re mad at Luffy, aren’t you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh, you’re totally mad at him. I’ll talk to him, maybe smack him around again. He was reckless and it got you hurt,” Nami insisted.

“I’m not hurt, and I’m not mad at him. It was an accident, and he already apologized,” the other woman shook her head. She truly felt no ill will toward the captain.

“Wait!” The redhead grabbed Robin’s hand and pulled her through the gate and on the other side of the wall, away from all the people.

“Nami, please.”

“Are you mad at your secret boyfriend?” The girl asked in a secretive whisper.

“I don’t have a secret boyfriend.”

Nami frowned, unhappy with the half-truth, “Okay, whatever he is, whoever he is. Is he the one you’re mad at? I thought if he was at the party, he would have checked in to make sure you were safe.”

“That’s because he’s not at the party.”

“He’s not?! I thought for sure he would be.”

Rather than answering, Robin only shrugged and turned to walk down the cobblestone road. Her eyes, staring low on the pavement, caught the line of wet footprints that hadn’t yet evaporated. They turned down a dark alley and disappeared in the opposite direction of the little bungalow the crew was staying in.

“Fine. Would you like one sleuthing clue?” The archeologist offered to the girl following her steps in tandem. It was a threat to the secrecy, but a puzzle would give Nami a task, at least for an hour or two.

“A clue?! Oh, yes!” Nami cheered.

“One person in that crowd knows more than you or Sanji. Possibly even two people. But I won’t say whom. Or what they know. That you’ll have to sleuth out yourself.”

“Oooo! The investigation has begun!” The navigator’s eyes sparkled and she looked over her shoulder back to the party. If luck was on Robin’s side, Mozu and Kiwi would have left shortly after their brother had. She didn’t know how lucky she felt, though.

The dark haired woman waved behind her as they approached the destination. The inside of the staff quarters was cool, dark, and quiet. The girl still frowned as she was shoed away from the building.

“I’ll be back to the party soon, once I reset. I assume it’ll be going strong through the night,” Robin attempted one final reassurance.

“If you haven’t returned in three hours, I’m finding you and dragging you back.”

“If I’m asleep, please don’t wake me.”

Nami smiled wide, eyes closing from how her cheeks crinkled, “Wouldn’t dream of it!”

  The women shared one final hug before the door shut and separated them. The redhead turned and walked back the way she came, chewing her cheeks as she thought through her list of suspects to keep an eye on at the party. If he wasn’t at the party, though, that meant he could be anyone, which widened the scope considerably.

As she approached the gate that led back to the Galley-La pool, her eyes caught a messy flash of blue poking out from between two warehouses. Franky stepped out into the road and then backpedaled at the sight of the girl.

“Ah, uh, crap. Uh, hey, sis.”

The young woman frowned and looked him up and down.“You got money in there?” She pointed to the metallic case in his fist.

“Nah, ’s a gun.”

“What are you about to do with a gun?!”

“I’m just taking it home, chill out. You’re the pirate, don’t you have like, a ton of stashed guns?”

Nami rolled her eyes but mentally conceded that yes, they did have a bad habit of leaving loose firearms around their pirate ship. Maybe she could put in a request with him while the new boat design was still in limbo.

“Hey, is Robin feeling better?” The man asked before she could disappear back into the crowd.

“Yeah, she’s just got a bad headache, and I think she’s upset about something. Don’t go bother her, I swear! She just wants to rest. Alone,” her words were sharp and serious.

“Yeah, 'course, just checkin in. Figured you’d know best. You’re a super good friend.”

There was a long, awkward pause before Nami looked back at the cyborg. “Why were you there first?” She asked in a quiet voice.

“Eh? I don’t think I know what you’re talking about, sister.”

“In the pool. You rescued her before anyone else even realized she fell.”

“Oh, yeah,” the cyborg ran his hands through the back of his hair, “Well I was the closest. And I didn’t have to take off a three piece suit,” he laughed.

“You weren’t creeping on her, were you?”

“Nah. Honestly, I was watching Luffy, thought for sure he was going to be the one to slip ’n fall. And I would have done the same for him too.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have held Luffy like that. Or tried to kiss him when he was vulnerable.”

“I- I- I didn’t-“ Franky stammered.

“I know what I saw. Don’t try that crap again. Whatever this crush is that I’m hearing rumors about, it needs to stop. We’re leaving the second you’re done with the ship, you understand? And you’re staying here.”

The man didn’t respond. He shrunk a step back into the shadows of the alley. His mouth was dry and he adjusted his grip on the gun case nervously.

“Anyways,” Nami turned her attention back to the gate, words nocked and readied to sting, “she’s been hooking up with a mystery guy. So your chances don’t look very good. You’re just not her type.”

He gulped, the intended harm of the phrase still hurting despite knowing he was the mystery man in question. It was a mean blow, but he knew the wounds of his villainy were still fresh to her.

“Yeah, okay sounds good. I’ll do my best to steer clear. And your cook can take his time keeping his suit dry next time she falls.”

“Goodbye, Franky,” the girl said coldly as she opened the gate and walked back into the party. She didn’t wait for his response.

Robin didn’t turn the lights on in the living quarters. She leaned against the dining table and took a few deep breaths, willing her headache into submission. Something had changed, something was different. She’d toed the line with near-drownings plenty of times in her life, and yet this latest instance felt like something altogether new.

She slowly made her way over to the little hot plate in the kitchenette and put the kettle on. The tea selection originally provided to the burly shipwrights of the Galley-La Company was piddling, but she would have to make do. Maybe she could ask the cook to pick up a better selection if they were going to be in town for several more weeks.

There was a long space of cold silence in the dark hall. Isolation was always her immediate instinct, but the loneliness encroached faster juxtaposed by the bustle of the party. Perhaps she was changing after all.

The kettle gave a shout and the historian readied a chipped company mug. She poured out the boiling liquid over the tea bag, breathing in the steam that whispered up. A quick tap on the window above the counter space made her jump and broke her out of her thoughts. One extra hand sprouted from the wall and unlatched the little pane, swinging it outwards. The void was immediately filled by the big, crouching cyborg.

“Hey,” Franky whispered, “I was just talking to your fiery lil’ navigator chick, she said you wanted to rest up alone, but I didn’t know if alone meant like, alone alone or alone,” he punctuated the last word with an overdramatic wink.

“I just needed to get away from the party.”

“Oh, totally! You went through a lot. That must have been super scary for you. Do you want me to leave? I can, if you want the space. Your call.”

Robin smiled with a softness, fourth hand spooning the tea bag from her drink and tossing it in the trash. “Get in here before someone sees you,” she chuckled.

The cyborg pumped his fist and ran around the side of the building, sneaking quietly through the front door.

“So you talked with Nami?” The woman asked, turning around as he entered the living space.

“Yeah, how does she do that? How does she pick like, the absolute harshest combination of words? Like a damn super power,” he grumbled and rubbed his chest.

“It hurts the spirit and the soul, doesn’t it? I’ve seen many strong men fall to her poison tongue.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’d phrase it like that…”

“What did she say?” Robin inquired as she took a seat at the table, mug in hand.

“That I’m a creep that tried to take advantage of you when you were drowning. That I have no chance pitted against your mystery hookup man.”

“Interesting, I’d be willing to bet good money on you in a fight against yourself.”

“Matchup of the century,” he moved to raise both fists but forgot he was carrying the silver gun case. It slammed into his forearm with a metallic clang.

“Oh, I didn’t know you brought that to the party,” the woman laughed with a mischievous look and grabbed the box with extra hands, setting it down on the dining space.

“Just the regular guys. No pressure, of course! We totally don’t have to do it, I just wanted to make sure the option was on the table. That table,” he pointed with a chuckle.

“I’m definitely open to the possibility,” she smiled slyly back and sipped her tea.

“Oh! Also I grabbed these. Uh, sorry for the state. You weren’t lying when you called it pulpy,” Franky threw down the water logged novel with a wet slap. The pages were in ruin, ink bleeding and corners disintegrating. He placed her sunglasses on top with significantly more care.

“That’s too bad. I’ll never know how it ends,” she frowned, but there was a casual acceptance in her tone that indicated she wasn’t particularly heartbroken by the loss.

“You’ll never find out the fate of those poor dough balls!” The man wiped a fake tear. He took a seat on the ground next to the woman’s chair, wrapping his arm around the back of her legs and curling over to rest his chin on her thighs.

“Devastating,” Robin hummed. She shook her head solemnly and ran her real fingers through his wet hair.

“So how do you feel? That was a pretty close call,” he asked against her skin, hand tracing light circles over her knee.

“Chopper didn’t find anything wrong, I think I was more in shock than anything else,” the woman sipped her weak chamomile tea and let the warmth fill her core.

“Nah, I don’t mean physically. I know you’re super tough. Like, how are you feeling?”

“Hm, that I’m not so sure about just yet. Of course, this wasn’t the first time I’ve fallen like that. But something feels… strangely different. Death’s always been one of those great big mysteries, not a matter of if but when and how. And, well before this week at least, there was always something a little- hm, nice is the wrong word. Maybe comforting?- To finally make peace with the specifics. Just to then be pulled back from the edge each time. But…”

She drifted of to think through her words. Her companion said nothing, just turned his head to look up at her, ear against her thigh. The melancholic woman didn’t meet his gaze, staring off into the depths of her mug.

Robin sighed, “But I wasn’t expecting that instinct to change once I decided that maybe life was worth living. I’m still not sure.”

“Not sure about what? About wanting to be alive?”

She shook her head, “No, about what to do next. When I landed in the water, I was sad at first. Sad that I’d only had a day and a half to really savor this world before I was taken from it. But then, the deeper I fell, I realized that this wasn’t going to be my denouement just yet. I felt almost, well, properly comfortable. Not comfortable in death but comfortable knowing I’d survive. In the past, in plenty of worse scenarios, someone was always there to pull me back from the brink. I had no reason to believe that the same wouldn’t happen at a gathering of all the people in the world who love me.”

“Yeah, that cook and the sword bro would have dropped everything to go in after you. They’re good guys, they wouldn’t have let you drown,” the man frowned against the skin of her upper thigh.

“Mmm, probably. But I knew in my heart that someone else would be there first,” she finally looked beyond her cup and into his dark eyes.

“O-oh, uh, I dunno about… jus’ did what I thought was right,” Franky stammered, rolling his face into her thighs to hide his embarrassed blush.

The woman laughed and her hand traveled from the back of his head down his spine.

“I’m glad it was you. And I never got a chance to thank you before you left.”

“I disappeared like we talked about,” he muffled into her skin.

“Well, thank you for saving my life.”

Broad shoulders shrugged under her many lithe tracings. He wasn’t about to take the praise without at least a little pushback.

“I uh, I promise I didn’t do it to try and get something in return. Not praise or sex or anythin’ like that. And I promise I wasn’t using the moment to cop a feel or steal a kiss. I wouldn’t do some skeevy crap like that. Not that kinda guy.”

“It never occurred to me that you would. Why do you say that?”

“I guess the stuff your friend said really got under my skin. She said she saw how I was holding you, that it looked like I was trying to get some when you were vulnerable. I super promise, it wasn’t like that. Like, I know I kinda fucked up and jeopardized this thing. B-but,” his voice started to grow a little shaky, “I-I couldn’t help it. I was-s s-so relieved-d th-that you w-were ok-kay.”

Franky took a few quaking breaths to try and calm himself down, but he’d already felt himself cross the event horizon and now there was only one way to let the bubbling emotions out. “I w-wasn’t thinking, I’m-m s-sorry. I g-got s-so scared-d w-when you f-fell in-n. D-didn’t even th-think ‘b-bout anythin’ else o-or all the p-p-people l-lookin’,” he cried, holding onto her legs like he was still trying to save her. Dense tears ran down his cheeks and onto her lap.

“Are you really apologizing for saving me without hesitation?” Robin smiled gently.

“B-b-but I b-blew it! N-now everyone’s-s gonn-na know-w th-that I-I’m-m in-n l-love with you! B-but I d-don’t give a sh-shit b-because I-I’d g-go back a h-hundred times-s and s-save you ag-gain. I-I’d g-give th-this w-whole thing up-p in-n ev-very l-lifetime if it-t-t m-meant y-you c-could k-keep-p l-living, even j-just one m-more d-day. I-I c-couldn’t j-just s-stand there know-wing y-you c-couldn’t-t b-breathe. And now y-you’re so nice, I’m-m a f-fucking m-mess, ‘m-m s-super s-sorry. Y-you g-got hurt b-but you’re the o-one c-comforting m-me and I-” the big man heaved a sob into her skin, making no attempt to hold himself back. His weeping dissolved into incomprehensible ramblings at her feet.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” The archeologist paused. A hand turned his face to look up at her by guiding one sideburn.

“Huh?” He finally caught his breath and looked up through bleary eyes. The back of his hand crossed his cheeks to try and clear the dampness away, to minimal effect.

“Can you repeat what you just said?” She raised both eyebrows.

“I-I feel bad that you’re the one c-comforting me because you’re the one that got hurt b-but I’m the one crying?” Franky offered weakly. The flow of his tears slowed.

“Before that.”

“Th-that if I had to make the same choice to save you I’d pick it every time?” he took a nervous gulp.

“No, before that.”

“Don’t remember what I said before that,” the man mumbled and looked away, trying to clear the air of his verbal slip. He kicked himself for fucking up twice in one afternoon.

“Uh huh,” she was unimpressed by his poor patchwork. Shoddy workmanship wasn’t his style and he knew it.

The cyborg scrambled to his feet, letting go of the woman’s legs and turning away to shake himself out of the moment of vulnerability. He grabbed a tea towel from the kitchenette, mind stalling to find a way to recover from his honesty. Casual, this was casual and regular and cool and normal and Franky was mad he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut.

He shouldn’t have held onto hope that he could just be a regular guy, just a normal hookup with a pretty lady. Of course, his inner voice screamed, of course a big freak like him was going to make everything messy with feelings and emotions and, ugh, love. He willed the wires running along his veins to take full control, to keep the whole affair rote, to just fuck like a machine and then leave out the window. Like he used to when he was a lot more human. The irony almost made him laugh.

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing’s changed, I got work to do. Once ‘m done, you’ll be gone. The direction you’re sailing, it only goes one way. You’re not coming back, at least not for a long time,” he muttered as he knelt with the towel and began to dab at the puddle on her thigh. This wasn’t how he had planned to get her soaked. 

His rambling continued, the dam overflowing, “and if you do go all the way around the world and back again, you’ll have done something no one else has in a long time. And you’ll meet a lot of types of people. You’ll be way out of my league. I mean- you already are. But you’ve got nowhere to go but up. And I’ll just be here ‘till I rust up at the scrap yard. Plus, I heard a rumor that I’m not your type.”

“What are you saying?”

Franky finished wiping and stood. His nervous digression faded as he turned towards the front door, “I dunno. Nothin’ I guess. Keep makin’ a fucking fool outta myself, so I think I’m just gonna go before I make it even worse,” he walked slowly across the room.

Phantom hands clasped around the handle of the door, keeping it locked tight. More sprang up around his ankles and tried to catch his hands but he brushed them away just a little too sharply.

“You’re not going anywhere until you look at me and we talk this out,” Robin stood and the dark room grew a shade darker.

“Talk it out? You’re not my girlfriend, so unless you meant to say ‘fuck it out’, then I don’t know what else to say,” his voice was angry, but all the pain was pointed inwards rather than at her.

“What the hell got into you? You’re acting like a teenage boy.”

“Because I feel like a teenage boy, I can’t get it out of my head! I don’t want to embarrass you like that ever again, so I’m just going to go,” he stopped walking and folded his arms. The pause gave Robin enough time to catch up behind him.

“Get what out of your head? You won’t answer any of my questions!” She sounded angry, so angry. He couldn’t meet her eyes.

“You! The things you do, the stuff you like, it’s everywhere! I can’t stop seeing that fucking monster you made yesterday when I close my eyes,” his hard body went more rigid.

“My- oh. Right. I understand. I should have known I’d cross the line eventually. I apologize,” she took two steps back, withdrawing into herself.

It was the man’s turn to feel confused. “Hold on, that’s not what I meant. What do you mean cross the line? I was the one that asked you to take it too far,” he squinted at the floor.

“I- dammit. I thought that maybe, I’d finally found someone who wasn’t scared of me. But I pushed it. And I made something- I made you do something unnatural and horrific… I- I’m sorry,” she softened.

“The hell’re you apologizing for? I’m the sorry one!” Franky finally turned around, though his eyes stayed averted.

“You? But you didn’t—.”

“I crossed the line, not you. You just wanted to have quick closet hookup because you were bored on a boat, and I went and turned it into something with flowers and sneaking around and fucking feelings,” he looked halfway on the verge of tears again. The cyborg’s eyes sought anywhere else in the room, eventually landing at the vase of drooping delphiniums on the dining table. His teeth grit.

The woman squinted and looked off into space thoughtfully, frowning hard. “I think you’ve made a lot of assumptions towards my motivations. I don’t appreciate that,” she moved her whole body to make eye contact despite the avoidance of her lover.

“Wait,” he looked down at her, brain catching up with the speed of conversation, “did you say you think I’m scared of you?”

“It was a matter of inevitability. Everyone always is.”

Franky laughed, big and clear and vibrant chuckles. He wiped both of his eyes clear; prickled tears of frustration transformed into joy. The archeologist frowned and crossed her arms.

“This is serious."

“I’m not scared of you, no way!” He caught his breathy giggles and took another step closer.

“Then why did you say-“

“Why did I say, what? Why did I say I couldn’t get you out of my head? Or why did I say I was in love with you. Because I thought you were smart enough to put that conclusion together already.”

“But- But you called it- me- you called what I made a monster.”

“Look around you, lady! I ain’t afraid of monsters!”

Robin looked down at her hands, thinking hard. The cyborg closed in the final step of distance and slid two fingers against her palm. She tried to pull away but he held on just a fraction tighter.

“I know I’m too much, the emotions are way too much. I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me to get lost ever since we got back to town. So just give me the word, and I’m gone.”

“Stay?”

“Oi, now that’s not fair, that’s a totally different word!”

“Stay.”

Franky tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry.

“I’m not scared of you. Promise. I think- whew- I think it’s super sexy. I like that stuff.”

“No you don’t.”

“Now who’s making associations about motivation?”

“You called me a freak.”

“Nico Robin, when did I call you a freak?”

“When we were in that closet.”

“Uh, no. I think you’ll remember I called you a freak like me.”

She searched for her next words. She searched for an excuse out of the conversation. She searched for a motivation for his kindness.

“Where did you hear that you weren’t my type?” Robin looked for any answer like it would appear in lights above his head.

“Your lil’ red haired friend said-“

“Nami said that?!”

“I know she’s still super mad at me but she-“

“You’re going to take the word of an eighteen year old that I have known for four months as gospel of my preferences?”

“I- I just thought-,” he stammered. When she put it that way, he had to admit he should have been more rigorous in his search for the truth.

Robin was done talking.

She pulled the mechanical hand around hers down to hold her back, forcing the tall cyborg to bend low. Her other arms wrapped around his neck as he stooped. She held him to her forehead for a fraction of a breath. Franky closed the rest of the distance, meeting her lips gently. He was soft, his mouth dry and cheeks still a little salty from crying. The kiss was chaste and kind, reassuring where words had outstayed their use.

The woman pulled back an inch, as if still waiting for him to change his mind. He smiled wide, kissing one cheek and then the other. Lips traveled to the top of her head, the bottom of her chin, right ear and then left. Finally, he landed on the tip of her nose, sliding slowly down to end back at her mouth. Her lips parted gently and the man’s big hands slid up both her arms to hold soothingly behind her neck.

Franky was holding back as if waiting for her queue. The devil’s tongue poked a his bottom lip and the big, reserved man melted into the embrace. He vibrated with anticipation, rolling his eyes as she sucked and bit at his soft flesh. Breathing grew hot against each other, lips aflame and tongues delving deeper.

“You taste like chlorine. And like you’ve been crying,” Robin whispered against him, letting out a soft, punctuating hum. One huge finger followed the strings of her dark bikini and played with the delicate strands.

“You also taste like chlorine,” he murmured with a little laugh, lips lingering near the corner of her mouth for a brief moment.

“What if we-“

“Yeah I was gonna ask-“

The woman loosened her hold of his waist, fingertips lingering on his muscles. She caught his hand again and pulled him toward the little bathroom in the back of the bungalow. The cyborg smiled, grateful to be back in the familiar rhythm once again. He ran a hand up the back of her thigh and over her swim bottoms as the woman guided them into the frigid, tiled space. One hand sprouted from the wall and turned the shower tap. Cold water immediately began to spray and the pair jumped back to avoid the icy mist.

“Ay, can I fill the tub too?” The man asked with excitement in his eyes. He pointed at the traditional, square soaking tub that was definitely big enough to accommodate both bodies.

Robin frowned, generally avoidant of bodies of water larger than the kitchen sink. “I can’t-.”

“I won’t let you drown, promise. We can go in together, it’ll feel good. But if you really don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he assured.

She nodded slowly, swayed by his points, and another hand sprouted to turn the faucet. Warm water immediately began to gush out and fill the tub.

Franky turned back to the woman and wrapped his arms around her. He held her close, pressing her to his chest in a tight hug. She buried her face between pectorals, extra hand extending to wrap around the circumference of his dense ribcage. He was so warm compared to the chill of the tiles under foot.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“So sentimental,” the archeologist smiled, kissing up to his collarbones and then back down to lick a nipple. He groaned, eyes rolling back at the activation of sensitivity.

“What, is it now a crime to hold a beautiful woman in a super sexy little bikini?”

She laughed and nibbled at the darker skin. Franky moaned at the contact.

“You can feel this?” Robin asked against his skin, rolling him between her tongue and teeth.

“Eh, it’s hard to explain- aaaah,” he cried. Clearly there was an effect, but she guessed many of his sensory systems were hard to describe verbally. The archeologist reaffirmed her mental note to take the time and ask how it all worked before her departure.

The big hand on her back wrapped around the lower string of her bikini top, pulling gently on the ends. The loops of the bow shrank as the strands were pulled at a lethargic pace. Steam began to build up from both the shower head and the bath’s flow, warming the air with puffs of humid dew.

She pressed up onto the tips of her toes to reach the man’s face again. Lips echoed the heat that now dominated the air. He groaned and his grip pulled harder on the little swimsuit, releasing the first knot. Fingers followed down the length of her spine, rested momentarily on the hem of her little spandex bottoms, and then drew back up with agonizing tediousness to twist around the tie at the base of her skull.

He wanted nothing more than to rip the garment off of her, but he knew she deserved to be savored. Franky had stared at the little bows on her back and hips for hours at the party, mind ruminating on how little effort it would take for each string to release under his strength. And yet, in the moment, all he wanted to do was take his time. Maybe he was overly sentimental after all.

Robin took a step back, pulling away from the man’s chest but dragging him along with her into the spray of the shower head. The cascade of raindrops pelted her exposed shoulders and dark hair.

“Is it too hot for you?” She asked. He splayed his palm under the downpour but frowned slightly, unable to get a read on the temperature with his metal prostheses.

“Dunno, don’t have the feel for it. Do you like it?” Franky tossed the question back at her. She looked displeased with his answer, sprouting extra arms to grip his biceps and turn them both one hundred eighty degrees around. It was the man’s turn to stand under the water, though he was far too tall for it to reach his head. The downpour met his shoulders and back, rivers running down his spine. He shivered under the warmth.

“Oh. Yeah, tha’s nice,” he mumbled and kissed her. She had such an intuition for knowing his limits and finding ways to surpass them in a way that always kept him feeling excited. He kept forgetting she’d only known him for two very intimate days. The fingers still resting on the back of her neck played with the second delicate knot that barely held the bikini around her torso. This pull was much quicker, untying it in just one nimble gesture. The garment dropped to the ground with a wet slap, freeing the woman’s breasts from their vague illusion of a prison.

Many blossomed arms pulled again, twisting the two back around so that she once again stood under the shower of hot water. The man kissed down, lowering himself onto his knees to better match the height of the wonder in front of him.

“Ow! Just like two ye-“

“Don’t,” she warned. The archeologist’s eyes flashed a dark look, but the way her belly shook confirmed that the joke had landed as intended. The laughter was shared, warming the room alongside the steaming air.

The big mouth exploring the woman’s body traveled low past her chest, over her waist, and wrapped around the string of her lower swimsuit piece. Franky bit the chord on her left hip and pulled back to untie it with his mouth. His hand held the fabric up over her backside as he kissed back over her pelvis, lapping at the warm springs that carved streams over her skin.

“So, what’re you in the mood for?” The cyborg looked up and asked, fingers tracing over the final string that held her together.

“…just feels so good…” Robin sighed dreamily and leaned back into the hot water. Her chest heaved and shoulders relaxed with the warmth that engulfed her from the top of her head down to her knees. She was barely listening, lost in the world of her mind and the bliss of the touch.

He pressed innumerable kisses over her thighs. Very quickly, his mouth grew hurried, lapping and licking the warm trailing water from her hips back to the fabric tie on her side. His hands ripped through the last string with a fervor that he’d kept at bay when untying the other bows, no longer patient enough to savor the experience.

Dark panties joined their matching top on the shower floor. Her many phantom hands reappeared. Franky realized he was becoming slowly trained to move whatever they guided him to go. Two intertwined bodies turned again under the hot water. The woman fell back to steady herself on the cold shower tiles. She shivered with the chill of contact against her spine, and her nipples reflected the sudden change in temperature. Hot water sprayed both of them equally, but it wasn’t enough to warm her.

Franky kissed over her now-exposed hip bone, tongue following the creases and folds of the woman’s legs towards her source. One of his hands lifted to pull a thigh over his bare shoulder. The other wandered blindly up to cup one stiff breast.

She moaned as the strong tongue met her cunt, licking from deep between her legs up to her clit. The man drank like a king, savoring the flavor that he had discovered just days before. Returning to enjoy her once more made everything feel right in the world, like it was where he was always meant to belong.

The single leg supporting the woman’s full body weight trembled with the balance and Franky rearranged himself to better hold her. He placed one hand under her backside and lifted her knee with the other so that both legs rested on his broad shoulders. It took very little strength for the iron man to hold her off of the ground with her back against the wall. Robin’s own extra hands kept her tight just to assure her security. The tongue returned to delve deeper inside her, pulling moans and cries with its encouragement.

Hot water from the shower burned their skin, mimicking the heat that pooled between her legs. Not a drop of her was spilled, all lapped up by his big mouth that worked her into pliability. The fingers that held her thigh inched to tease her; they glanced over her lips with a spirit of gentleness. Franky’s tongue was not nearly as kind, quickening to put pressure on her aching nerve. The woman made an attempt to roll her hips forward by planting her feet against his shoulder blades. Her heels and toes put wonderful pressure on the man’s natural nerves, dragging over the skin and kneading into his tight muscles.

Everything accelerated. Shower water, sweat, lingering chlorine, and those delicious juices flowed down prickling thighs. Robin’s hips built momentum as the man built up his own. The dark haired woman closed her eyes and let herself flow with the ecstasy. She was weightless in his grasp, floating and swirling like the mist that surrounded them. Moan after moan escaped her, losing herself to the man that took great care pleasuring her cunt.

Franky felt intoxicated by the flow, and his tongue began to move deeper, faster. Each leg bracing the sides of his face gripped tight, rubbing back and forth against his fuzzy sideburns. He laughed against her pussy, imagining how red and burned the insides of her thighs would be by the end of their month together. The notion of getting to see the faint ghost of his handiwork was added to his long list of goals.

She cried louder, louder, louder, biting her bottom lip to stifle the moan that verged on a scream. Release was just around the corner, coaxed by his tongue alone.

The front door of the little bungalow blasted open in the other room.

The devil’s eyes snapped to attention and she swore, “No.”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“ROOOOOOOOOOOOOBIIIIIIIIIIN!”

Franky froze, tongue pressed flat against her, mid-swipe. He looked like he’d licked an icy pole in the middle of winter, stuck and waiting to thaw. No one said anything for a long moment.

“Robin, are you in here?” The captain shouted again.

“Luffy, wait. I’m in the shower,” she called back, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water. Her voice was ragged and hoarse from her exclamations.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say that?” The captain laughed and rattled the bathroom door to barge in. Dozens of hands sprouted to barricade the threshold.

Robin looked around the room in shock, releasing the lustful contact and sliding off the man’s shoulders to support herself on shaky legs. Hide, she silently signed to her companion, but he only looked around in bewilderment at the little, tiled box of a room. Nowhere to go, no cover to take. A ghostly limb tossed a freshly steamed towel to the woman and she wrapped it around herself with haste. Franky stood up but still spun in panic while he looked for somewhere out of sight.

Luffy pounded on the thin bathroom door again, giving it an unsuccessful pull with some degree of impatient strength. The archeologist turned her back and composed herself, trusting her companion to find a decent solution.

She held onto her towel tight and released the extra hands. The door nearly broke off its hinges as the boy appropriated the shower’s entryway.

“Robin! Are you feeling better?” He asked, a mix of care and excitement in the question.

“Y-yes, captain. I was just starting to feel… relaxed. Is there something you needed?” She tried to calm her voice and distract herself by stepping forwards out of the bathroom and closing the door shut behind her.

“I had to see if you were okay! You left the party! That’s no fun,” the captain pouted a little on her behalf.

“I did, I was just a little tired after falling in the pool. Are you all still having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah! So much fun! The fish-grandma-lady and Zoro are playing a beer game, Chopper is doing that thing he does with the chopsticks, and Sanji just brought out another round of meat!” His eyes sparkled.

“That sounds like a wonderful time, you should be enjoying the festivities.”

“But,” the Luffy frowned, “you’re not there. And Nami said you’re mad at me.”

Robin sighed, “No, I’m not mad at you, captain.”

“Not even a little? I didn’t mean to knock you in the pool, promise. It was an accident, I gotta get better at lookin’ where I’m going! I wouldn’t push you in, even as a game, I know you can’t swim.”

“I understand completely. Accidents happen. I was distracted as well.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled with a sheepish expression. Luffy looked down at the floor, then up to the ceiling, before finally meeting the older woman’s eyes with a wholly genuine grin. There was a series of welts around his eye, cheek, and forehead. Clearly the rest of their friends had expressed frustration at his thoughtlessness for her. The historian didn’t think he needed that degree of reprimanding, but reminded herself that he would heal fast.

“I forgive you, captain.”

“It really sucks when you fall in, huh? I hate when do and I’m stuck and Zoro has to dive in after me and everything. But it was soooo cool that Franky was right there! And he’s a really good swimmer. Hey, do you think I can ask him if we can put a pool on the ship? That would be really fun, shishishishi!”

“Well, I don’t know-“

“HEY!” Luffy shouted, “CAN WE PUT A POOL ON THE NEW SHIP?!”

When there was no answer, the boy shot the archeologist an expression of impatience. He gripped the bathroom door with one hand and pushed it back open with inhuman strength.

“Uhhh, hey bro, wha’s up?”

“I said, can we add a pool?”

Robin spun around, gawking at the man who was demonstrably not hidden. Her eyes tried to send a telepathic what the fuck to the panicked cyborg. He had ended up in the bath tub, reclining casually like they hadn’t just been caught in a compromising situation. Franky raised both hands in a confusing shrug, answering with a what else was I supposed to do look.

“I think a pool would be really fun, and then we could have pool parties every day!”

“But captain,” the woman tried to interject as the voice of reason, “You, the doctor, and I wouldn’t be able to go in the pool.”

“What if we just made it like, this tall?” He used his hand to point flat at his waist.

“It only takes two inches of water to drown.”

“Okay so like this tall?” The hand dropped to his knees without the rest of his body moving.

“That’s not-.”

“This tall?” He indicated down to his ankles.

“What about a really big tub?” The shipwright offered, thinking back to plans he’d already roughed out, “That’s kinda like a pool. Oooooor I could put a pool in one of the empty dock slots? Yeah, YEAH! That could be super cool, nice thinkin’, bro!” His engineering mind stirred with an influx of ideas. The cyborg looked around for a pen and paper before remembering that he was, in fact, in a bath.

“Captain, can I speak to you- privately- just for a moment?” Robin guided her captain to turn around, shutting the door behind them.

“Sure!” The boy bounded away from the bathing space and back out into sleeping quarters. They walked far enough away from the door, leaning against the kitchenette on the opposite wall.

“So… Hm,” the archeologist pursed her lips. Extra hands gripped her towel tight around her as she thought through how she was going to excuse the big, naked cyborg in her bathtub.

“That’s really cool!”

“W-what?” She stammered.

“You and Franky hanging out! He’s all nice and stuff now, kinda like how you were when you joined the crew. That guy’s so funny!” Luffy laughed.

“I suppose so… yes… but… We were just…,” Robin still couldn’t formulate the words.

“Nah, I get it! It’s like how me and Zoro take our baths together. Or me and Us-uhhhh. It’s like how me and Zoro take baths together.”

“I’m… not so sure about that,” the woman shook her head. Unless she was seriously misunderstanding what happened during the boys’ private time. It wouldn’t surprise her.

“You think he’s funny too, yeah,” the captain stated like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

“He- he makes me laugh, yes,” her shy smile couldn’t be contained. The rubber boy lit up when he saw her elation, sharing in the joy and multiplying it tenfold.

“Yeah! That’s so cool! Are you happy? You look really happy.”

“I think I am, yes,” she warmed. The feeling was novel, it was bright, it was caring in a way that felt somewhat different than the love that the rest of her crew had for her. They loved her, and she them, but the feeling that radiated off of the machine in her bathtub was new. Radical. Forged. It terrified her, it made her tingle.

“Yeah!” Luffy threw his arms around her in a tight hug, rubber tubes wrapping thrice around her shoulders. “This is great! Come on, we should go back to the party to tell everyone! We gotta celebrate this!”

“C-captain, wait. I don’t know if I want to tell people just yet. I don’t even know what there is to even tell. I’m still getting to know him, first. We just met. And the crew hates him.”

“What? No way! You’ve known him forever!”

“No, captain, it’s only been a few days, if that. I met him on the sea train.”

“Wait, how long ago was that?”

“About three days ago, captain.”

“No way! Really?! Doesn’t feel like three days…” he murmured to himself. The arms around her rescinded with a snap. The boy put his hands on his hips and thought hard.

“Regardless, I’d like to keep this private for now. Maybe I’ll tell the others as the month goes on and the ship nears completion, but I know they’re still upset with him,” Robin shook her head and readjusted her towel.

“They’re going to find out anyway once we set sail, shishishi,” he snickered.

“I’ll probably tell them once we’re gone and it’s over, yes. It depends on a lot of factors.”

“Over?” The captain cocked his head to the side, “why?”

“Well, I just don’t think what he and I have is something that will work once the crew leaves town.”

“Well, that’s stupid! Why not?! He’ll be right there, you can talk to him every day and everything. You can take your baths together, too!”

“No, captain. Long distance relationships are very hard to maintain on the Grand Line. Pirates leave people behind in port cities all the time. This is just temporary,” she shook her head, though the reality of the sentiment made her a little sad.

“Long distance? Robin, the new boat’s going to be bigger but it’s not going to be that much bigger. Shishishi, you guys’ll be fine!”

“… What do you mean by that, captain?”

“Whuddya mean what do I mean? You’ll be alright, he’s not going to be that far away. Do you think he’ll want to sleep in the boys room with everyone else? Or is he going to sleep in the girls room with you?” The boy shrugged, not caring either way.

“I’m sorry, I think I’ve missed something,” Robin shook her head.

“HEY!” Luffy sprinted back to the bathroom, sandals slapping the floor. “FRANKY! Do you want to sleep with the boys or girls?”

“Uhhhhhhh, I’m kinda a both sides sorta dude myself?” The cyborg’s muffled voice called back from the other side of the door.

“Great!” The captain ran back to the woman’s side, “He says he doesn’t care. He’ll just have to make two bunks for himself.”

The archeologist stared, even more confused than ever. The rubber boy’s brain was moving faster than she could keep up with, and she couldn’t see his line of thinking.

“Two bunks? Why would he need two bunks?” She asked, confusion heavy on her brow.

“One for each room! And because he’s so tall.”

“Luffy, Franky’s got his own bed. It’s at his house. At least I think he still has a bed at his house, even if his house is gone. He doesn’t need to make two new beds.”

“Uhhhh yes he will. Where else is he going to sleep? The galley? Sanji wouldn’t let him! He doesn’t let me sleep in the kitchen!” The captain pouted a little at the memory of every midnight kicking he’d received for trying to sneak into the food stores.

“He’ll be sleeping here. At his house, in his own bed.”

“Uh, now you’re not making any sense, Robin. He can’t go home every night to sleep in his own bed, we’re going to be way too far away for that. Unless he can fly? Can Franky fly? Like with rockets? Coooooool!” He sparkled at the idea.

“Captain, what are you talking about?” She attempted to reign him in. The conversation was quickly digressing, and she needed answers before the boy started thinking too hard about rockets.

“I’m talking about Franky! He said he doesn’t care which room he sleeps in, so it won’t be a long distance for you to walk on the ship! And he already said he’s going to make a big bath, so you can keep taking them together. You don’t have to be afraid of the bath tub now because you’ve got someone to help you out! He won’t let you drown, no way. He jumped in after you at the party! He’s so cool, and he makes you laugh. It’s going to be great! Yeah!!”

The archeologist blinked twice, “Sure, for the month we’re here for, maybe. But after—.”

The rubber boy frowned in a most unnatural fashion for his generally cheerful countenance, “Stop talkin’ like that! You’re really gonna end it when we leave? But then you’ll be sad, and he’ll be sad, and I can’t have two sad people on my crew.”

“T-two? Who else would be sad? Don’t be sad on my behalf.”

“No, you and him! That sucks, he can’t be sad his first day on the crew!”

Robin froze. She stared at the captain, then the bathroom door, then back to the boy.

“L-Luffy. What are you saying?” Her voice dropped like she was telling a secret, “you’re not thinking of asking him to go with us, are you?”

“Uh, duh!” The captain laughed, not meeting her volume, “he’s gotta! And it’ll be easy to ask him now because he’s got you!”

“He’s— no, he won’t come with us. He doesn’t want to, he likes living here, from what I understand. What he and I have going on is temporary. Franky’s building us a ship and then we’re taking it and he’s staying behind,” she repeated the plan as she’d repeated it in her head for the last two days. Pallor in the historian’s voice, though, told a different story.

The captain’s offer was on the table, or at least it would be soon. There was a very real chance that the cyborg could be going with them. The notion made her insides churn. On one hand, the idea of him staying with her filled her with an effervescence unlike anything else. On the other, living with him long term would change the nature of their temporary hookups. On the third hand, he was in love with her, and she didn’t know what to do with the information just yet. Everything in the room felt like it was spinning. Oxygen escaped her lungs like she was drowning once more.

“Well, you’ve got a month to convince him! He’s going with us,” Luffy said with absolute certainty.

“I- sure. Understood. I’ll talk it through with him,” Robin stammered, still reeling. Franky’s response to the offer would be hard to predict. If he put up a fight, then he put up a fight. She had no idea how to proceed. Everything was changing so fast.

“Yeah! Great! That’s awesome, thanks!” The captain hugged her tight once more.

“Of course, captain.”

“Hey,” he pulled back, “This is a good thing, but you don’t look happy.”

“I’m just thinking. I don’t know how everyone else will respond to our new crew mate. Nami, Sanji, Usopp, and Chopper don’t care for him. I don’t want them to know we’re… taking baths together just yet.”

“Eh, whatever! I’ll talk to them, don’t worry about it! You have fun,” the boy tightened once more and released her from his embrace. He ran back to the bathroom door and flung it wide, “Franky! I’m gonna go. Are you coming back to the party?”

“Uh, nah, bro. I think I’m gonna head home after my, uh, bath. I got a lotta stuff I need to do before I get started on your ship tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?! Can I see it?” Luffy beamed.

“Won’t be much to see. It’ll be like when your cook dude starts making food, but he’s gotta chop the veggies first.”

The boy blanched at too many memories of sneaking raw, cubed celery, “Oh, yeah it’s not real food when he’s doing his, uh, meats on plush or whatever.”

“Mise en place?” Robin corrected, walking up behind him.

“Yeah, that. Okay. Well, I wanna see it when you’re done cooking the boat, yeah?”

“You got it, bro! Oh hey,” the cyborg smiled from the tub, “can you dudes do me a favor? Can you make a big list of everything you want on the ship? That way I know what to try an include. I think I got a lot of it so far, but I just wanna make it extra super for you guys.”

“Ooooo yeah! We could have a pool! Or a basketball hoop on the mast! And Robin can have a room all to herself! Like a spooky one with a bunch of coffins and spiders. Or, or, or a scary torture dungeon. We can put whatever we want on the boat!”

The adults shot each other a wickedly quick look of wide eyed surprise, both imagining a totally different utilization for a scary torture dungeon. The shipwright added the idea to his mental list, next to sturdy locks on the bathroom doors.

“Yeah, totally, bro. Write all that down before you forget, and get what the others want, too!”

“Cool! I’m gonna go ask them!” The captain bounced in excitement. “Robin, are you coming back once you’re done with your bath?”

“I’m not sure yet. It depends on how tired I am. Nami said she would come collect me in a few hours, if I’m not asleep,” the archeologist smiled and ran a hand over the top of her captain’s head.

He grinned like the sun, “Great! Sounds good. Okay! Bye Robin, I’m happy you’re not mad at me! Bye Franky, have fun! I’ll tell Sanji to save you guys some cake.”

“You can eat my slice, captain.”

“Whoa! Thank you! See ya!”

Luffy sprinted out the door, running back to the party at maximum speed and throwing himself over the pool yard’s high brick walls.

Robin closed the front door with a chain of hands and triple verified the lock was latched. She let out a long sigh and fixed her towel around her torso. As her mental attention returned to the man waiting in the bathroom, her eyes caught the glint of the silver briefcase that had been left on the dining table. The devil woman grabbed the box and brought it with her into the little bathing space.

“Hey, super smart thinkin’!” Franky laughed and pointed at the case as the woman slipped back into the tiled room. The disturbance of the open door had released much of the warm steam, but the water from both taps was still nice and hot. The briefcase was set down on the rack of dry towels, and a blossoming hand shut off the shower head’s spray.

“What kind of hiding spot is this?” She asked in mock exasperation, gesturing at the reclining man. Her towel dropped. He gulped.

“He didn’t care, probably thought it was just like, mixed bathing. We’re fine,” Franky shrugged.

“No, he knows. He’s fine with it, but…” Robin trailed off, not quite ready to divulge the details of the captain’s offer. There would be time. If this secret was going to slip out sooner than later, she was going to savor what she could while she still had the opportunity.

Franky noticed the mix of emotions on her face and beaconed for her to get in the bath with him. The archeologist cautiously obliged. She lowered herself slowly into the water, holding tight to the man’s shoulder to ensure she didn’t slip. Once seated, she relaxed into the heat, leaning in close to his side.

The archeologist closed her eyes, “they are the most incredible young people I’ve ever met in my entire life. And then on some days, I remember that I have been talking almost exclusively to adolescents with unfinished frontal cortex development for the last few months. I care about them so much, but sometimes I don’t understand their logic. ”

“That’s gotta be super difficult, like herding seagulls,” the man frowned and repositioned himself to hold her better, “There’s no one on your crew for you to talk to that’s like, an actual adult?”

There would be if he came with us, the little voice in the back of her mind piped up. No, now wasn't the time to bring the question up. There was still much to consider. She shook her head and shifted to sit directly in his lap.

“They’re all shockingly mature. And they’ve all been through a lot, but that doesn’t make them always easy to talk to. Or live with. It’s one of the many reasons I find your company so refreshing.”

“Oh, lady, I’m the poster boy for refreshing maturity!”

Robin laughed. The two bodies lounged lazily in the bath, fingers intermingling and lips glancing over wet skin. The silence was comforting, only interrupted by the sounds of the splashing waves.

“Do you ever think about death?” The woman mused as her hands traced a familiar scar along his chest.

“‘Course I do, every day,” he answered with a grim stare.

“I don’t think it even occurs to those kids. The way they talk and fight, there’s a spirit that I think diminishes with worldliness. They’re not even thinking about death as an option, let alone an inevitability.”

“If anyone was gonna crack the code on how to keeping the party going forever, I’d put a big bet on one of them, yeah,” the cyborg nodded and pressed a kiss into her shoulder.

“Or they all perish tragically young.”

“Or that.”

“Can I ask you how close you got?” She looked up, hesitant to push the topic.

There was a long pause while he thought through how to answer the question. “I mean, pretty super fuckin’ close,” Franky finally answered, “As close to the edge as you can get and still come back in one piece. Eh, many pieces. But I kept all the vitals.”

“How much do you remember?”

“First year was a blur, I had a lot of trouble with my eyes for a while, so I don’t have a strong visual memory. Plus, y’know. Brain damage. So things were super dark for a real long time.”

A hand traced a scar along the man’s brow and hairline.

“Lost m’ right arm first, so I think I spent like, months trying to just figure out how to use my left. Heh, always told myself I shoulda practiced more with my other hand,” his tone was shockingly cheeky for a man discussing amputation. It never ceased to surprise the woman the way he could sneak a sex joke into any conversation.

“How long did it take?”

“To realize I could get off with my left hand? Like, maybe two months?”

“No,” she laughed, “to heal in total.”

“Oh, yeah. Ha. There were phases. Two years alone to just get back to functioning regular again. Had to pretty much relearn everything- walkin’, talkin’, all of it. But then I was like, might as well take the time to get the mug lookin how I want. So the third year was spent doin’ shit like- well I dunno, I don’t wanna get too gross.”

“You won’t, I promise. I like this topic. But you don’t have to answer if it feels too personal,” she assured, kissing a prominent scar through the cleft of his chin.

“Heh, you’re gonna super regret sayin’ that.”

“Will I?”

“So, uh, somethin’ weird happens in your brain after you take it that far. ‘Least it did for me. Like, after I just barely fixed my right hand, I had to fix the other one. I knew I could make something that worked better than the existing hardware, and I wanted ‘em to match, so I… uh… evened out the damage.”

“On yourself?”

“Uh huh”

“That’s fascinating!”

“And I guess, y’know, you do so many rounds of self-disarticulation and suddenly a jaw and brow sculpt don’t seem all that crazy. Why are you looking at me like that?”

Robin was practically bristling with the mental image of the man performing operations in the murky depths of an abandoned war ship. She twisted in his lap under the weight of his mechanical hands, enjoying herself just a bit too much.

“Mmm, I’m just intrigued. Please, keep going. Do you feel content with your appearance now?”

The cyborg shrugged and stared at his hand cupping her inner thigh.

“Dunno just yet. I think I got some more changes in me. Kinda like a new tattoo. Or psychedelics. I got all these ideas for who I could be next, but the opportunity just hasn’t come back around. Maybe one day. I like who I am right now fine enough, if that’s what you mean. But there’s no way I could stay like this forever either.”

“Maybe I won’t even recognize you next time I see you,” the woman whispered close and sucked on his earlobe.

Franky scoffed, “Heh, yeah sure, I’ll straight up be a whole new guy next time you’re back in town.”

“You’ll just have to do your best to remember me then,” she smiled.

“Nah, I’m not forgetting you, no way.”

“Good,” she laughed against his helix and kept her head rested temple to temple as she thought through what she wanted to ask next, “So what made you want to return to the city? When was enough enough?”

“Super good question. It’s hard to say when exactly, but I just remember this one night. I think it was around my thirtieth birthday, like I felt it in my heart. And I was all alone, and it was so fuckin’ cold. And you know what I realized I wanted more that like, anything?”

“What?”

“A goddam cheeseburger, holy shit.”

“Really?” She balked.

He nodded back with an overly serious expression, “I’d only been eating pretty much just fish and old hard tack for like, four years. I was at a good pausing point with all the upgrades. And I didn’t have any like, open wounds or nothin’. So I built a little fuckin’ boat and I followed the train tracks back and I got that burger. Best meal of my life.”

“How did you feel reintegrating after so many years alone?”

“Oh yeah, I’m the most popular guy in town and everyone loves me and my four years of isolation never caused me any problems,” he rolled his eyes.

“But you got to build something new. Yourself and your family,” the archeologist looked up through her bangs, attempting to sound reassuring.

“Yeah, well, you can see how well that went.”

“You’ll rebuild. You’ve already started, and you’re not alone this time.”

The man didn’t answer, his distracted fingers tracing the light rays that bounced off of the surface of the water.

“You’re… sturdy,” Robin chuckled and tapped against his sternum with the back of her knuckles. Behind him, quiet fingers grabbed the metal gun case from the wall and passed it from one limb to the next.

“I got plenty of weak points, just gotta make myself look sturdy to everyone else,” he muttered.

“What could possibly go wrong?” She asked, her macabre mind already filling in all the things that could definitely go wrong.

He laughed, “Oh, like a million things! There’s a tube that like- okay it goes from the lighter for the flame thrower here,” a finger traced just under the woman’s collarbone, “down to where they propane canister gets loaded here,” his touch drew down her body and rested between her sixth and seventh ribs. The contact tickled and she squirmed at the feeling.

“If that tube gets cut somehow, I fill up with straight gasoline. And then y’know. Boom.”

“I’ll be sure to avoid hanging around your tubes with my scissors out, then,” she nodded with studious focus.

He poked at her ribs for a second time for good measure. “Thanks, super appreciate it.”

“What else?” She spoke even as her body twisted halfway out of the bathtub to grab a hold of the silver briefcase.

“Whoa, why’d you get- wait, what the hell you weren’t kidding when you said you liked the topic, were you?” Franky’s jaw dropped and his eyes beheld her bare body reaching around him.

“You mentioned these don’t work well under water?” Her words were dampened by her fiddling with the case’s clasps. One big hand cupped the woman’s backside and squeezed with a firm pressure.

“Eh, they’re fine for short term use. I just wouldn’t wanna go swimming every day in one. Here, lemme set it up. You got a shape preference?” He nudged her gently, free hand covering hers around the handle of the box.

“I still haven’t tried the thick one,” she tried to keep her words from sounding too hungry.

The cyborg smiled and kissed her cheek, feeling the heat radiating from her flush. He stood up with a waterfall of bath water, grabbed a dry towel, and turned to face away from his companion. He wiggled out of his briefs and launched them to land next to the long abandoned bikini.

“Double check that’cha grab the right one when we’re done, I’d hate to get our lil swimsuits mixed up,” he winked over his shoulder. The woman laughed with silky excitement and offered the case up to him. Her manicured nails lightly skimmed the exposed skin of his rear as he checked that all the metal contact points were well dried before clicking his appendage into place.

Franky swung himself back and forth to make sure everything was properly attached and nodded with contentedness. Robin sighed and put her hand over her temple, hiding the small smile that formed.

“Can we go back to talking about mutilation before I lose the will to have sex entirely?”

“You’re super creepy, why does that stuff turn you on?” The man squinted and lowered himself back down in the bath. She climbed back in his lap as soon as he was seated again, straddling his hips in the warm water.

“Because it’s interesting. You’re so uniquely resilient. And I’ve got a vibrant imagination,” she caressed his cheekbone.

The blood began to flow to the newly attached appendage and they both felt him twitch a little bit.

“Yeah, I’ve seen what you can dream up,” he laughed. The monster of her creation flashed once more through his mind’s eye, but there was no need to cool himself down now. The blood flowed faster. Robin splashed water against his chest in jest, laughing.

The cyborg looked at her with humorous surprise. He splashed back gently with the back of his fingers. The little waves barely made any impact, and the devil flared back with a mischievous grin. She was upping the ante.

Six pairs of hands sprouted from the rim of the tub and scooped cupfuls of the warm water, dumping each one directly on his head. The look of surprise this time was less humorous from under the drenched, blue mane. His reciprocating splash came closer to a small tsunami, using the palm side of his huge hands to push as much water as he could in her direction.

She jokingly staggered against his hips, dripping bangs framing a look of overacted betrayal. The jostling made the man groan, and the eyes she made at him properly stiffened his cock.

Robin crossed her hands over her chest, and the skin on the back of his neck involuntarily prickled, anticipating the next set of hands to appear and touch him. Damn, he realized, already conditioned after all. No hands immediately grew, however.

Instead, she dropped backwards into the bath like a corpse.

Her back hit the water with a smack and her knees clamped tight around his hips to keep her steady. The woman’s face had just barely submerged under the surface of the water before big hands pulled her back into the air.

“The hell’d you do that for?!”

“You weren’t going to let me drown,” she smiled comfortably.

“Yeah, I know that! But why’d you do something super dangerous like that?”

“I wanted to see how it felt. And I thought there was no better opportunity than with someone I trust.”

He involuntarily twitched against her, again.

“W-well, give me a warning next time at least!” Franky stammered.

“That’s understandable. Fine. I’m going to go under, you pull me up in thirty seconds.”

“Ten,” he stressed.

“Fine, ten seconds. Then you bring me back before I die.”

The man still looked incredibly worried but he wrapped one hand behind her back and the other held her hand. She lowered herself much slower this time and took a deep breath in before submerging under the surface.

Hot water cascaded over her eyes and dark hair floated on all sides of her periphery. Lungs already ached as her curse fought back, clawing at her insides like a scratching post. Static hissed behind her eyelids and everything was muffled for one long moment.

Before she knew it, she was pulled back from the depths. The first lungful of air on the other side was one of the most delicious that she had ever taken.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The woman gasped against the shoulder bracing her. She ground down on the length between her legs, emboldened by the brush with danger.

“Again?”

“No way, you’re wild!” The man beneath her laughed but his hand under her back did not budge. A long, hot groan vibrated through his chest with each rotation of her hips. He held her tight to keep her from dropping into the water again, and used the rigid grip to grind against her cunt.

The smaller fingers around his hand guided him up to her clavicle. He brushed the wet, raven tresses onto her back. Mouths met, hot in the steaming air and possessive under her touch. Franky wanted to stay within her grip for as long as she would let him. If she desired most to use him as a shield from Death, then what a fine thing it was to know where he belonged in the world at last.

His hands journeyed down her skin, over mountains and valleys and into the heat of the lake they both soaked in. Fingers traced her, teasing out light moans at they whispered over her clit. She did not seem particularly pleased with the gentle teasing, twisting her hips to achieve a better friction. Her movements were quick and needy as they sought any path to pleasure.

She took one finger with more than ease, excited and impatient for more. His mouth traveled to bury himself between both breasts, heaving and hungry. A second finger teased her open and she took it readily. Robin moaned under the tight stretch, but soon absorbed the full length and width of both digits.

The breast not locked between lips bounced with her movements as she relaxed around the touch. No heaven or treasure or all the booze in the world could feel as good as her tightness around his hands. The cries that left her lips were the songs of angels, persuading her lover to savor every second of divinity.

Franky kept her spread wide and guided her hips to finally, finally wrap around him. She lowered down on his barrel of a cock. Her jaw trembled as she took him slowly, keeping her thighs steady. Temptation to rush hung around her like a ghost, a phantom willing to rip her in half. The hand on her back, however, kept her keen and slow. She would not tear, she would not drown. This would not be her denouement.

Pressure mounted as her hips came to rest against his bones. The water rippled and calmed as the woman acclimated to the feeling of fullness. She leaned forward to catch his kiss once more, his dense neck propped against the lip of the big tub.

Little waves sped up to a soft surf as hips began to catch each other. The man lost to temptation, bucking up. A shout cascaded through the steam-filled room, and he echoed the sound with his own throaty release. It was impossible to tell the source of the long drips of precipitation that sped down her temples and over tan shoulders, between the sweat from her brow and the water from the bath.

He held her waist tight, aching to speed up but afraid to give her his full force. He knew better, she was strong and sleek and she could snap his neck in a matter of seconds before he could even get close to hurting her.

She commanded his attention. The hands that gripped his shoulder braced with reinforcing extra arms. Her pussy glided easily now down his length, and she took total control over the angle of flow. The woman pleasured herself with him, lips crying softly with each rotation of her hips to find the sweetest spots.

The tide shifted again to choppy crashes, like a storm encroached just over the horizon. Roaming iron hands glanced over every curve and angle before making their way home to her clitoris. All his attention focused to keeping the fire on her nerve ablaze. He fanned the flames, sparks growing to a raging wildfire that consumed her hips and back. Fingers betrayed their thicker condition, instead growing nimble and precise when given a task of importance.

Heat and flame engulfed her muscles, and Robin gripped harder to keep from fully incinerating. She needed to be extinguished, to have her hot iron bones quenched and tempered.

Icy eyes caught the man’s steel glance. Franky was lost in the world of steam and fuel, desperately searching for his own release as he held her by the tips of his fingers.

“Trust me?” She asked though shaky breaths.

The man didn’t answer verbally; he nodded furiously and groaned once more as she rolled down him deliciously. It was the answer she had been looking for.

“Twenty seconds.”

“N-no wa- Fuck ah- no way you’re doing that again,” his eyes grew cold, but the fire never ceased its fierce licks.

“Please.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a beg. She knew what she wanted.

“F-fifteen,” he bargained.

The devil smiled and leaned forward, kissing him with all the combustion of her burning lips like she was trying to set him on fire too. A hand held her waist as he had before and she breathed him in before pushing back and falling under the waves once more. The water did not extinguish the fire. Instead, the immediate burn in her lungs acted as dry kindling.

“Fifteen mmm, f-fourteen, aaah thirteen,” the man’s voice was loud enough to penetrate under the splashing waves, though significantly dampened. All sounds were hazy and muffled like a dream. He punctuated each number in his countdown with a thrust of his hips.

“Twelve, e-eleven-n, fuuuuck, ten, nin-ne.”

Eyes watched the woman from above the sparkling surface, ladened with concern and care and lust. They glued to her torso, staring at her breasts that shook around empty lungs.

“Eight-t, ohhhh fuck! Ah, seven, s-six-x, five, fucking look at you oh my god, f-four.”

The grey of fading twilight reached its fingers behind her eyes.

“Three.”

The fingers around her clit never ceased their work. She tried to bring forth more fingers herself from the void but none materialized.

“Two.”

Her lungs released their last bubble air, fucked out of her by his dense dick penetrating deep. Darkness grew from every angle of the bath, and fire filled every capillary in her fingers and toes.

“Fuck, one!”

Just as quickly as she had dropped, she was pulled back from the edge once again.

The gasp for sweet air swept through the wildfire like a monsoon wind. Oxygen fed the starving blaze. It fanned the flames, sparks jumping to set even more torches ablaze. She clenched around him, each nerve in her body screaming all at once.

Orgasm racked through her body, drenching her shivering frame. Robin panted for a second crisp breath, but the humidity of the hot bath water filled her mouth like cotton.

“Keep going…” she whispered, feeling the frequency of the thrusts slow beneath her.

“Don’t wanna hurt-“ he was still so sweet and cautious and caring.

“Just do it,” the woman was firm in her tone. She knew he had it in him when he needed to use it. The big cyborg was fully capable of giving it to her hard.

The mechanical hand that had kept her steady underwater pulled her in tighter and turned their bodies around like they were dancing. The two flipped over in the swirly water. Franky’s free palm gripped the tile wall of the tub, pinning the woman in a little pocket of air between the water and his big chassis.

He pushed faster, harder. The waves became great, breeching the walls of the bath and spilling all over the floor. They crashed over the woman’s worn face, making her sputter as she crooned. Robin was saying something to him but he couldn’t hear, the sound of the ocean in his ears far too loud.

Again and again and again he thrust. Tiles dislodged from grout under his grasp. She was so tight around his cock. She was all around him, everywhere. She’d watched him cry and she’d made him laugh and she hadn’t kicked him out the minute he had said that he—

He loved her.

The wave of release finally crashed and he filled her with every ounce of himself.

As the tide rescinded, the two bodies took quick and hasty breaths. The man rested his forehead against the cold tiles of the tub to chill himself down. The woman similarly rested the back of hers. Wet, black curls draped the rim. Most of the water had been displaced out of the tub, flowing down the shower’s drain.

“Can you put tile floors on your list next to sexy torture dungeon?” Robin cracked one eye open and looked at the haggard cyborg.

“I think this is the smallest mess we’ve managed to make so far,” Franky laughed in return. The cracked tile dislodged and fell into the water. He’d have his brother send him the bill. Or he’d fix it when no one was looking. Or he’d just blame Luffy. He didn’t have to disclose to anyone that he was fucking in the company bathtub.

Okay, he’d fix it.

“Did we actually clean off?” She asked. A new hand turned the shower back and the woman stood slowly to clean herself off after her bath.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“Which bed’s yours?” Franky called from the main room, not long later. He put the kettle back on the hot plate and took a cursory glance at the bunks to see if one was easily identified as Robin’s. None stood out immediately, though he had a pretty good guess which top bunk was Nami’s. That probably meant her’s was the one under it.

“Left wall, on your ten o’clock. Yes, that one, bottom bed,” the woman called in a raised voice from behind the closed bathroom door.

Of course she was watching him with a phantom eye. At least he’d guessed the correct bed. The cyborg grabbed her a fresh Galley-La merchandise t-shirt and some comfortable looking pants out of a little rucksack at the foot of the bed, setting them gingerly on the sheets. Robin stepped out of the bathroom, one towel around her bust, another drying her hair. Her skin was raw and she smelled like soap. And honeysuckles.

The kettle sung, snapping the man out of his gaze of admiration. He refilled her mug with a fresh tea bag and boiling water. By the time he looked up from the preparations, she was halfway though slipping the t-shirt on over her her exposed chest.

“I should really tell the bros that this isn’t a super accessible size to build their bunks. How the hell’s a man supposed to cuddle in these conditions?” The tall cyborg rolled his eyes as the woman took a seat on her bed.

“Shocking, really, that there aren’t more spaces around here to hold your giant, burly shipwright.”

“Oh my god, she called me ‘burly,’” he blushed, handing her the steaming cup.

The sun had now fully gone down, cold night air blowing in through an open window. The party still raged. Shouts and music could be heard across the dock yard.

“You thinkin’a returning to all the fun?” Franky asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the top bunk.

Robin shook her head, “I’m absolutely exhausted, what about you?”

“Like I told the kid, got a lotta work to do. Tomorrow’s a big day. Shipment’s coming in, stuff like that. But hey, if you’re free you should come swing by the construction site. I’ll be down at the scrap island.”

“Won’t you be busy?”

“Yeah, but I can make time. Maybe if you come later in the day, it might be easier. We could get dinner or- fuck that makes it sound like- uh we could, uh…”

“I’ll come by tomorrow evening. It’ll be interesting to see you properly in your element,” she smiled sweetly and took a sip. The tea was still weak but that wasn’t the fault of its preparer.

“This was super fun, thanks,” Franky leaned down to kiss her once more before turning to head toward the door. He gripped the handle with a wave, but almost tripped over the offerings left on the threshold.

Two slices of perfect cake sat on plates with little dessert forks. Underneath was a big piece of paper, both sides completely covered with a mixture of notes in different handwritings, sizes, and writing utensils. No inch of the sheet was left unscarred.

“Ay, someone left this,” he said as walked back into the room with the sweets, handing one off. The historian picked at the fluffy crumb conservatively. He ate his own in just a few bites and rinsed the plate off in the little kitchenette.

“Mmm! Don’t forget your effects, I don’t want to have to feign ignorance over the box of genitalia on our dining table,” Robin pointed to the (once again) forgotten metal briefcase. Franky jumped to grab the box and exchanged it for the plate in his hand.

“Okay, I’m actually gone this time. Bye, see ya around!” He kissed her quickly one last time, licking the frosting on her lips. An afterimage of neon blue and red lingered in the doorway for the briefest of moments as he waved and ran back out into the night.

Robin laid down in her little bed and stared up at the slats above her, still tingling with steam and endorphins. She touched her lips gently, smiling with the way they buzzed.

There was time. If she wanted even more, all she had to do was ask him. The party didn’t have to stop. It wasn’t like her to place a bet this big, but this time she had a feeling it was going to pay off quite nicely.

Chapter Text

“…So, she like, leans in close and goes ‘tell me what you know,’ but I’m like, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, girl,’ but then she’s like ‘yes you do, spill it,’ but I’m not a snitch, you know that bro, so I’m like, ‘no way I don’t know anything,’ but then she tries to like, bribe me, and she pulls out- I dunno like a thousand beri- but I’m like, ‘what the hell is this this isn’t enough for a bribe, I know you have more money than this,’ so she tries to slide ten thousand beri in my hand and she gets all up in my face and you know what I said? I go, ‘I barely know the chick, I don’t know her dating life, and if she was seeing anyone it definitely isn’t my big bro.’”

“Wait, you said it like that? That sounds super incriminating.”

“Well, I don’t remember exactly how I phrased it. But I told her to back off, is what I did. And then I snatched the ten thousand beri and we ran off,” Kiwi laughed from her perch. Her sister joined in the hilarity, almost falling off of the tall stack of freshly ripped boards.

“You should have seen the look on her face, big bro! It was like we robbed that little ginger blind for the second time in a week!” Mozu giggled so hard she began to cry.

“It wasn’t like you robbed her a second time, you literally robbed her twice. We don’t need the heat, c’mon. I’m trying to make amends here!” Franky paused, halfway through a pull of his saw. He gestured at the stacks and stacks and stacks and stacks of raw materials.

“Boooo,” both sisters mocked from their high throne.

“Gimme the cash, I’ll give it to Robin to give back to Nami.”

“No way, bro! She offered us the dough, it’s not her fault we’re too loyal to tell her what you’ve been doing,” Kiwi pouted.

“If you were so loyal then you shouldn’t have taken a bribe in the first place,” the man said as he got back to his work, attention unfocused as the sisters returned to their squabbling.

“Anyways,” one continued with a tone of light annoyance, “that’s how we ended up leaving the party. Now it’s your turn, bro.”

“Eh? Did you say something? I’m super busy and I can’t hear you over the sound of all this, uh, sawing.”

“Come ooooooooooooon, dude! You saved her from drowning and then you just like, disappeared. But then she left too after you did! Soooooo like, where’dja go?”

Franky held out his palm face up without looking up from his work. “I only give the dirty deets for pay, sorry sis.”

They both frowned, “Name your price.”

“Ten thousand.”

Kiwi fished the bill out of her bikini top, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it angrily at the man. It hit his forehead and bounced off onto the ground. He stooped to pick it up, flattening it on the edge of the unrefined plank before tucking it into his swimsuit.

Then he got back to work silently.

“Wait, what the hell, bro! You said you’d give deets if we gave you the money!”

“Yeah, doesn’t feel good to get robbed does it?” He said with a scornful voice.

“Pleeeeeeaaase?”

“Please please please,” Mozu begged.

“If I stop to tell then it’ll throw off my rhythm,” the man was way too old to give into such childish behavior, or at least that’s what he told himself.

“You’ve never kept secrets like this from us! We just want to make sure you’re staying safe and that you’re happy,” Kiwi frowned, a worried pout clear across her face.

Maybe the genuine concern was actually working after all.

“Ugh, fine,” Franky finished his final stroke, catching the excess scrap and setting his backsaw down on the board.

“Oh!” Exclaimed one girl.

“Yes!” Echoed the other.

He wiped sweat from his brow and used his hand to block the sun. Both sisters looked down at him like he was a little creature in an enclosure and they were waiting for him to do a trick.

“So we’d planned out leaving the party in a way where no one would think it was weird. The drowning wasn’t part of the plan, duh, but it ended up working out as a decent distraction. I used the cover to dip. And then, yeah, we met up after,” he smiled.

They gasped.

“Where did you go?!”

His sisters were hooked by his riveting storytelling.

“We, uh, we went back to her place.”

Both sisters screamed.

“Oh my god, I knew it!”

“What did you do at her place?”

“We played board games and baked cookies and braided each other’s hair. What the fuck do you think we did?” Franky rolled his eyes and looked over the top of his sunglasses with a sly grin.

They both screamed again.

“Yes! You fucking dog, holy shit, dude!”

“I told the guys this morning, I said you looked like you had a different kinda energy today!”

“Good job, bro!”

“Way to go!”

They both held out thumbs ups, tears of pride flowing behind their sunglasses. He had to admit, it felt nice getting the truth at least partially off his chest.

“So like, now what?” Mozu dried her eyes and asked.

“Uhhhh I don’t know. I think she was supposed to stop by later tonight but nothing’s really planned.”

“No we mean like, what’s next for you two? Are you gonna ask her to be your girlfriend or something?” Kiwi clarified.

“Oh, no way, ew! I’m not that kinda dude. Plus,” he kicked at the gravel under the saw horse, “she’s leaving town soon. And I’m not about to become one of those pirate’s wives that sits there and stares out at the horizon waiting for her to come back from the war with, y’know, the World Government. I’m way too cool for that!”

“Sooooo cool,” his sister rolled her eyes with overt sarcasm.

“You’re gonna be fucked up over this for what, like a decade?”

“Shut up!” Franky stiffened in defense, but he knew they were right. This fling was going to take ages to recover from.

“Was it everything you’d hoped it would be?” Kiwi poked at the saucy subject in one final attempt to wring whatever details she could get out of him.

His beaming smile couldn’t be contained. He wanted to be cool and coy about the topic, but the sunshine was impenetrable.

“Yeah,” the man blushed, “yeah it’s been pretty fuckin’ super, honestly. She’s so smart and so cool and she says these things that scare the shit out of me but like, in a good way? And she lets me talk about weird fucked up shit right back and it doesn’t even phase her! And she’s so soft but she’s really strong, like she could totally lift me if she wanted to with like, all her hands. And she did this thing with her-“

“EWWW okay that’s enough, I don’t wanna hear any more gross stuff!”

“Gross!”

“-And she’s so kind, ugh. But then she’s also like, totally freakin’ kin-“

“And she’s coming this way!” Mozu looked over her shoulder back at the city.

“Wha- she what?” He snapped out of his daydreaming.

“Yeah, she’s walking down the steps, she’ll be here in like, less than five minutes,” Kiwi turned to verify the sight of the dark haired woman in the distance.

“But- but she said she was coming down tonight!”

“Well she’s clearly coming by like, any second!”

“I think someone else is going to be coming any second, too!” Mozu joked and both sisters fell into another another fever of cackles.

Franky panicked and furiously picked up his hand plane, getting right back to work scraping down the length of the plank. He figured if he build up a big enough of a sweat, he could hide the sudden onset nerves, plus look super cool and manly in the process. His hands were frantic but true, gliding swiftly down the long hardwood board under the hot sun.

Robin took her time on the steep limestone steps. She held her bag a little tighter to her chest and made sure her heels didn’t catch on the pocked rock work. Her destination was obvious from the distance; the construction site had been clearly marked at some point in the early morning and the new keel was already propped up against temporary scaffolding.

He made quick work. She liked that about him.

The path snaked through piles of junk and scrap. It took a good amount of concentration to keep from tripping over the scattered debris, undoubtedly worsened by the other night’s storm. The closer the woman stepped, the louder the sound of laughter grew. Something or someone was sending the two square sisters into absolute hysterics from where they perched on a big pile of lumber. A booming chuckle harmonized with their bird-like trilling. Butterflies filled the archeologist’s abdomen and she briefly considered turning back, going home, and losing herself in a book. Novels were easier, she could control the flow and the pace when it was just words on a page.

Her feet did not stop despite her mind’s hesitations, however, and soon the path curved to reveal the man working diligently on his woodcraft. Robin froze at the sight, unprepared for the way he glistened under the steady beat of the afternoon sunshine. Franky faced away from her, practically nude without his shirt on. His toned back muscles strained as he scraped long shavings down the surface of the board.

It reminded her of ancient statues of warriors or athletes. I wonder what those muscles look like without skin, Robin thought to herself. She’d ask again later to take a look under the hood. Later. His skin was nice for the time being.

“Shhhhh shhh shhhh she’s here,” hushed one sister with a giggle. That only made the other one laugh more.

“Oh heeeeey, Robin,” the other girl managed to greet through her fits.

Franky looked over his shoulder and immediately lit up with a smile. His hair had been pulled back into a little half-ponytail, out of his face to keep his vision clear. A rolled bandana sat just under his hair line to semi-successfully catch any precipitation as he worked. Brightly colored welding goggles lay just below the strip of fabric. She’d never seen him in such a context, red-faced and industrious as he ripped raw tree down into usable materials.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked with a coy smile.

Mozu and Kiwi laughed again, leaning on each other for support.

“Ehhhhh don’t pay attention to ‘em,” Franky brushed his sisters’ wheezing aside as he set down his tools and started walking towards the woman. “You’re here super early, how ya doin’?”

Robin saw the big hug coming before she could fully react. All she could do was turn away with a laugh as his steps sped up, practically running for the last few meters.

“No no no no no! You’re so s—,” she half protested in a playful tone.

Big hands scooped her up and lifted her just an inch off the ground, tight around her waist as her back met his chest. He smacked a sloppy kiss into her cheek. She was smiling too wide to fully care about how much sweat he had transferred onto her.

“Ewwwwww,” sang the chorus of birds.

“I’m so what?” He laughed and set her back down. She turned under his palms to face him and he kissed her properly with a second big, wet greeting.

Mozu whistled. Kiwi whooped. Robin blushed, taken aback by their audience.

“You’re so… hmm I can’t think of the right word any more,” the dark haired woman pondered jokingly. A chain of hands grabbed her book satchel and raised it off her shoulder and onto the stack of wood that the other girls sat upon.

“I’m so, uhhhh, sexy?” The man offered, filling in the blank.

“No, that wasn’t it,” she teased.

“Oh, oh! I know!” Kiwi shot her hand up like she was answering a question in class.

“Me too!” Mozu raised hers as well.

“He’s so…”

“SUPER!” They shouted in unison, striking poses on top of the wood pile.

Franky pointed two finger guns with his finger guns up at the both of them, laughing. He looked back down at the woman before him and shrugged with confidence. They said it, not me, the cyborg seemed to convey with raised brows.

“Mmmm, that wasn’t what I was thinking either,” Robin joked, bursting his bubble just a little.

“Nah, that’s impossible. Because I was already feeling extra super this week and it’s only gotten better every day since. I’m gettin’ to do all my favorite stuff, with all my favorite people. Nothin’ more super than that!”

“Sweaty, I was going to say sweaty,” she laughed at the display of bravado.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re hangin’ out at a construction site!” The man teased back, grabbing her into another hug. She yelped, almost a squeal if she hadn’t been so good at keeping a degree of composure.

“Hit the showers!” One little bird chirped.

“Good work, now go rinse off, kid!” The other sang.

The cyborg let go of the woman with one final squeeze and turned to face the shoreline.

“Hm? What’s this?” Robin asked, inspecting the little piece of paper that poked out over the top of his panty line.

“Oh yeah, here this is for you,” Franky plucked the ten thousand beri bill out of his swimsuit and handed it to the woman. She frowned, inspecting the crumpled and slightly damp note.

“Th-thank you?”

“Got a big tip, thought I’d share the wealth,” he winked.

“I didn’t realize people usually tipped you with bills this big. I thought the proper etiquette was to bring a stack of hundreds,” she raised both eyebrows. Her mind wandered to a scene of him dancing on a little stage and her slipping small bills into the tight underwear. Possibly while she smoked a big cigar.

“Hey, now, I keep my stripping tips in my other speedo. This here’s bribery money,” he answered, breaking her out of the dream.

“Bribery? What are you bribing me for?” The woman cocked her head.

“Your navigator tried to bribe my little sisters for information at the party last night, but they wouldn’t talk.”

“We wouldn’t do that to our big bro, no way!” Kiwi shouted down.

Robin laughed, “Ooooo, yes that is my fault. I told her that someone at the party knew the identity of my- she calls him my ‘secret boyfriend’- but that she had to find out whom herself.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend!”

“BOYFRIEND?!”

All three of the others balked, but the archeologist just laughed, “It’s what she calls him. Thank you for this, Nami was very mad about it last night. She was fuming for hours. But good job, she’s not easy to pull one over on.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly and turned away, “Yeah no worries. I’ll be right back, uh, make yourself at home.”

He ran down to the crashing surf, sprinting straight into the waves and diving under the water to cool off. Robin turned to look up at the sisters. She put her finger to her lips with a wink and handed the bill back to Kiwi.

“Oh, we knew we liked you for a reason!” The girl giggled, returning the wink and  tucking the money back into her swimsuit top. 

“So what have you been up to today, Robin?” Mozu asked, keeping the niceties flowing.

“I managed to escape without a chaperone for the afternoon, so I stopped by a little book store and picked up a few new things to read,” the dark haired woman responded, trying to shield her eyes from the sun with a third hand as she looked up. Another hand opened her book bag and pulled out a stack of four books, passing them off to the girls.

“Oh! Was it the shop on the corner of 5th and Canal Street? Orange canopy, big window display?” A sister asked.

“Yes, that sounds about right.”

“Let us know if you plan on going back like, next week or something. They’re Family associated, so we can get you a pretty good discount. Usually,” the other giggled.

“Oi oi, whatcha talkin’ about?” Franky appeared again, now dripping in sea water. The devil woman wasn’t sure if it was actually an improvement from being drenched in sweat.

“Robin was just showing us the books she bought. She went to Sam’s earlier, so we told her if she goes back we’ll try and get her a discount.”

“Hey, don’t listen to them, Sam doesn’t give discounts,” the man warned, “what they mean is that he turns a blind eye when they steal from him. Two very different things.”

“Not different at all!” Kiwi laughed. She held up one of the books, flipping through the pages of the little pulp novel that the historian had bought to replace the one she’d lost in the pool. “Let me know if this one’s any good, I need some cheesy trash every once in a while.”

“Oh, I’ll be sure to,” the woman on the ground laughed.

“Hey, did you guys know that there’s porn hidden in those type of books?” The man squinted up at his sisters.

“Yeah, uh, duh, dude. That’s like, the whole point,” the young woman laughed.

“When did you find that out, like, yesterday?” The other grinned.

“…Maybe…” he turned away a little sheepish.

Robin took a step back to look at the many stacks of lumber that were scattered in massive pallets around the construction site. It was almost unbelievable that all the raw material would be crafted into the shape of a boat in just under a month.

“Here, lemme give you a tour!” Franky announced, putting a hand on her back and guiding her around the scene, “So that’s a pile of wood. And that’s a pile of wood. And that there? That’s a pile of wood. What do we have here? Another pile of wood. This? Wood. That? That’s the keel, it’s where all the wood’s gonna go. Eventually. And that’s a pile of wood. So’s this. And over there too. And heeeeere,” he steered her around one of the stacks to reveal a little tent that had been constructed out of the way, “here’s where I’m sleeping tonight. If I end up sleeping.”

“If?” She asked, mischief in her eye.

“Oh I meant like, I might just work through the night and run on backup energy. But I could be open to suggestion!” He laughed.

The encampment was only little in comparison to the tall stacks of boards. It had been built with its primary occupant’s size in mind, so the draped canopy stood over nine feet off the ground, the radius nearly ten feet wide.

“It’s nice, it looks cozy,” she mused, hand gliding over the canvas.

“I won’t have you doubting my ability to pitch a good tent,” he laughed.

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it, not after the last few days we’ve had at least,” she smiled and snapped his spandex waistband.

“Heh, you’ll be in for a surprise later, then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t like surprises,” The woman asked with a dubious squint.

“You’ll see. Oh! Speaking of surprises! Did you notice anything about the wood?”

“Which wood?” She pointed to one of the many stacks, “That one? Or that one? Or-“

“All of them, all of the wood,” Franky’s grin looked like it was about to explode, “Here, look!”

He guided her back to his primary work station and the plank he had just finished leveling out.

“How do you not like surprises? Everyone likes surprises!” He asked as he positioned her to stand in between both sawhorses.

“I don’t,” she frowned.

“You’ve just never been surprised in a good way. We’re gonna change that. Surprise!” He gestured down at the wood before them. Robin frowned, unsure about what she was supposed to be noticing.

“It has a- um- lovely grain?” She offered, weakly.

“No, no, no,” the big man shook his head and wrapped himself behind her. His mechanical hands briefly held her shoulders and traced over the length of her arms. His fingers finally landed to rest on the back of her hands. The cyborg’s chin rested on her shoulder and damp sideburns tickled her ear. He brought her touch to the now-smooth surface of the wood, sandwiching her between his mechanical prostheses and the board. Franky’s bare chest rubbed against her clothed backside.

“Okay, uh, disclaimer, I bought this before we really met. And I kinda bought it for me. But then I did meet you! And you’re super cool, so like, I knew I had to give this wood to you.”

She laughed.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he laughed back, “well, maybe a little. Anyways, it’s black market so don’t think about the ethics too much. But you’re the pirate, and the ends justify the means. Kinda. Sorta. Think of it like a rescue, if I hadn’t bought it then some actual asshole might have gotten his hands on it first.”

“I’m still not sure what I’m looking for,” the woman frowned.

“It’s Treasure Tree wood.”

“Wh- what? You found- you bought- you’re making the ship out of a Treasure Tree?” Robin stammered, jaw agape.

“Yup!”

“But that’s-“

“I said don’t think about the ethics too hard.”

She didn’t know what to say. He was right, she’d never liked surprises because surprises were always marked by betrayal. Gifts, on the other hand, were far, far more rare. She didn’t have the words to express the slurry of emotions that she felt.

“I- wow- this is incredible- I- Thank you. Thank you,” she whispered, the side of his cheek pressed up against her’s. The woman’s fingers splayed to feel as much of the timber as she could, like she was trying to absorb a piece of it into her bloodstream. The big fingers on the back of her hand drew little circles on her skin.

“Can you feel that?” Franky whispered in her ear.

“Feel what?” The woman asked, closing her eyes gently.

“It’s still singin’,” he smiled, running both their hands back and forth over the grain, “And I’m gonna make it sparkle.”

“Sp-sparkle,” she echoed under her breath. Something definitely tingled in her digits, but she couldn’t identify the source.

The man kissed her cheek and gently nibbled on the top of her ear. His nose brushed the skin near her brow and a little sparking shock zipped into her, more sharp with static than the normal buzzing usually felt.

“Oh!” She jumped.

“Heh, sorry bout that. Bzzt!” He laughed and jokingly nuzzled further against the side of her face.

“No, it was- well- just shocking that’s all,” Robin smile, opened her eyes, and spun around to face him. His big hands still kept her enclosed against the work surface, bodies as close as they could get.

“Ha. Shocking.”

“Bzzt!” She mimicked, kissing his nose before sliding down to kiss his lips.

“Get a fucking room!” Mozu yelled from her perch.

“Don’t you have work to do? Lazy ass,” Kiwi heckled. They laughed in unison

“‘M on break,” Franky mumbled, already gone. A moment later his brain registered the audience and he shook the fog from his vision. The cyborg looked up at the sisters, eyes asking for a favor. “Hey! Uh, if I’m doing another all nighter, I’m gonna need to fuel up. Would you two mind running by the house and picking up some-.”

“Oh, waaaay ahead of you, bro! See ya later, don’t get pregnant, bro!” One sister answered, and they both hopped down from the stack of lumber.

“Byeeeeee have fun, we’ll take our time!” The other sister waved as the two girls made their way down the road. Their big brother waved back in an overdramatic fashion. Mozu lifted a thumbs up over her head. Kiwi offered a different finger. The sound of their giggles disappeared over the many, many piles of wood.

“Wow, friends that understand boundaries? That must be nice,” Robin smiled as she watched them leave.

“Oh, come on,” the man grinned and wrapped his hand around her’s, pulling her through the construction site and back to his makeshift shelter.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The inside of the tent was cool and dark compared to the bright afternoon light on the island’s shore. A little unlit lantern hung from the center support, and the front half of the space was utilized as temporary storage for a surplus of boxes and crates. The back semicircle of the tent was covered in a few overlapping bedrolls and a variety of pillows.

“How plush!” The archeologist commented, looking around the space.

“If I’m going to be livin’ on the ground I’m gonna do it with style,” Franky laughed. “Plus I gotta store my crap somewhere while my house gets rebuilt. And, y’know, I kinda assumed I’d be having company over.”

“Hm? What are you going to do, host dinner parties? I hope I’m invited,” Robin joked.

“Oh, you’re invited over for dinner any time,” the man’s voice dropped an octave and he kissed her again, much deeper in the privacy of the tent.

“Just let me know next time you’re hungry,” she whispered against his lips.

“I am on my union mandated lunch break right now, I probably should eat up while I have the chance,” he nodded back with full seriousness.

“This is a unionized operation?” The woman poked with a chuckle and knelt to sit among the stack of pillows.

Franky dropped first to his knees and then onto his stomach, laying flat and looking up at her. “Oh totally, how else would I have been able to swing a three thirty p.m. lunch hour?”

She laughed, “An hour? Is that all I get?”

“We could try to negotiate for more if you wanted.”

“I’d like that, but we’ll have to see what the boss says.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he’ll mind, he’s kind of a pushover” the cyborg’s voice was soft and quiet again. His forearms wrapped around a pillow and he propped himself up to take in as much of the woman’s face as he could. A hand ran down the exposed curve of his spine and settled on his ass.

“Well, I’d hate to distract you from your valuable opportunity to refuel,” she started closing in the distance again. The hand that held him dipped under the spandex and squeezed.

“See, that’s the beauty! What they don’t tell you when you replace your stomach with a mini fridge is then you get to do whatever you want on your union mandated lunch hour! I save so much time because I don’t have to scarf gruel out of necessity. I eat,” he paused to flip over onto his back, “for pleasure.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Robin nodded, lips meeting his again. She clambered over his big body to straddle the small point of his waist and laid down, chest to chest. Large hands held her sides as he kissed with a hunger yet unseen in their four days of knowing each other. They wandered up her t-shirt and slid the soft cotton over her head. He was confident in his own element, his own space. There was no fear of interruptions or onlookers tucked away in their private little shelter. No real time limit, no pretense, no secrecy.

All of the hands that traced his form blended into the new normalcy of sex for the man. He was so used to their presence that he feared he wouldn’t be able to enjoy future entanglements with others without thinking back to them, to her. Being touched by just two hands once more? He couldn’t even imagine returning to that reality.

One of her many hands reached behind her, sliding over his hips and through the little blue hairs that poked over his waistband. Another was light over his packer, and he saw her lips soften as she squeezed the accessory.

“Do you want me to go get your-,” the woman shot a look at the obvious gun case on the other side of the tent.

Franky froze, shook his head, and blushed hard. He very suddenly grabbed a pillow to cover his face, panicked. The plan he’d come up with in his head had felt much cooler, but the reality of asking for what he wanted in the actual moment twisted his tongue up.

Robin frowned, confused by the reaction. She tried to lift the pillow off his face to return to their activities, but he clamped down tighter.

“Mmvmmfmmn,” he muffled.

“I can’t hear you,” she pried again.

“Never mind, this was a dumb idea. I’m going to go change,” he lifted the bottom half of the pillow just enough to get his words out before covering it up again.

“What are you talking about? I’ve seen it all before.”

“Not all of it,” the man huffed. Four hands grabbed the top of the pillow and pulled it lower so that his eyes and the bright blush in his cheeks were exposed. She stared into his dark eyes.

“Why are you so embarrassed all of a sudden? We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Robin said with excessive concern. She raised her hips and twisted to climb off of him, but a big palm shifted to hold her thigh in place.

“‘Cos like, I gotta explain myself first. And it’s kinda personal. I dunno, this was a bad idea,” he mumbled into the fabric.

The hand stayed gripped around her leg, and she used the position to grow enough hands to rip the pillow away. Her face closed in, replacing the sack of feathers. She hung an inch away from his lips, near enough that he couldn’t cover himself back up.

“Just tell me,” she squinted. Her lips and hot breath were close enough to tempt the man but just far enough away that the pleasure was beyond his immediate grasp.

“I- whew okay. Can I ask you a question first?” His blush grew dangerously red.

“Sure.”

“The other day. When we were hangin’ out at my place. And you taught me soooo many super cool facts about flowers,” the monster flashed before his eyes but this time he welcomed it openly. Nothing she conjured could possibly make him feel more overheated than he already appeared.

“Yes I remember that quite well,” the smile was wicked. She rolled her hips on his chest and he groaned.

“So you said that a perfect flower has uh, both sets of bits. And then you made those like, uh, things,” his blush looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. The cyborg raised the fist that had been holding the pillow and he made a gesture like he was gripping something and pumped his fist a few times near his open mouth. It was the woman’s turn to flush.

“Mm, yes I did make those. You’re talking about the anther, yes?”

“Yeah, howdja do that?”

“Essentially a big clitoris,” she answered mater-of-factly.

“Big clit?”

“Yes. It isn’t ideal for penetration, but there are enough similar parts that I can construct a realistic and sensitive enough phallus structure if I want one. The nerves and the erectile tissue translate well, though I can’t release out of it. The human body can be sculpted as desired. You already know that. Why?” Robin raised an eyebrow. The man noticeably relaxed under her legs and his blush faded ever so slightly.

“So you’re okay with the, uh, grey area?” He asked shyly, like he was asking if she had a crush on him.

“Of course, that’s where all the most fun can be found,” she smirked and closed in the last inch to kiss him. Lips moved under her, forming more words. Franky wasn’t done nervously rambling.

“Yeah, uh, okay cool. That’s really good to know, yeah, totally. So like, if theoretically someone also had the means to, uh, play in that grey area, you’d be okay with that? Like it wouldn’t scare you?”

“Scare me? What kind of absolute monster are you about to reveal?” She laughed.

“N-no monster. But I made myself, maybe you count that. And I love my dicks, every single one of them. I love being me, worked hard on it. I think I’m so fucking super. But uhhhhh…” he trailed off.

“Just say what you’re wanting to say,” the woman eyed with direct focus.

“Well like, some days I kinda missed the original hardware a little bit, but I don’t think that makes me any less myself, does it?” He grimaced, wanting to get through the conversation as quickly as he could.

“I can’t think of a single thing you could possibly say to me next that would make me think of you in any drastically different way,” Robin let a little laugh escape her lips, numerous hands tracing bare shoulders, down the hairs on his calves. One of her own cupped a pectoral, thumb running over his many scars. The other traced circles on is temple where sideburn transitioned into the hair on his head.

“I dunno. So, the thing I’ve got on, it’s from the second box. With all the more experimental stuff.” he muttered to himself.

“What are you about to show me? Do you have a mouth down there? Does it have teeth? Are they sharp?” She joked as all her numerous hands quickened their tracings.

“No! Uh, no not like that,” the blush was spreading again.

“Just tell me,” she mouthed just a hair away from him again, prodding for the man to relax under her touch.

“I, uh, I still like being me. This doesn’t mean I don’t. But I thought this would be kinda fun, for both of us. I like it… when I’m in the right kind of mood. And I really like you and I trust you. So don’t laugh, okay?” Franky looked off to the side, avoiding eye contact. All her hands were driving him crazy. One new finger traced his swimsuit again. He just needed to get the words out and then he could let go completely.

“I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“Super promise?”

“Super promise.”

He sighed, chest collapsing under her legs.

“So…” the cyborg hesitated one last time, “I’m, uh, wearing my pussy attachment today.”

Robin made a quick sound and her chest stuttered, like she was trying very hard to not laugh.

“You super promised!” Franky bolted upright, shifting the woman to now straddle his hips rather than his lower abdomen.

“I didn’t laugh!” She choked out, trying to cover over her smile, “It’s not like that. I’m not laughing at you. Super promise!” She held up four palms in defense, “I was laughing because you seemed so worried and embarrassed over something that I would consider trivial. But clearly, it’s a delicate topic for you. I’m sorry for my insensitivity. I was just expecting something with more fangs. And maybe a tentacle or two, after all the concern you were showing.”

The man frowned, though he looked substantially less nervous.

“But you don’t mind that I-“ he looked over his shoulder, lowering himself back onto the pillows slowly.

“It’s nothing you hadn’t already mentioned before, or couldn’t be inferred by the option of swappable accessories. Nervous and bashful is a strange look on you, you’re usually a much more confident man than this. Like I said, we can do something else if you’re feeling uncomfortable. But I really don’t mind. You’re right, it could be a lot of fun. Thank you for being so vulnerable. For- mmm- opening yourself up to me,” she smiled. A hand smoothed his loose hair that had escaped from his headband.

More hands reappeared to continue tracing his body where she’d left off. Two stroked his inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the tight hem.

“Oh, uhm, yeah, cool, super, okay,” he mumbled, almost surprised that the conversation had gone as well as it had.

“So then,” Robin whispered against his lips, voice low, “how do you want me to touch you? You take the lead, I don’t want to do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable.”

Franky was hesitant, waiting for the other shoe of rejection to drop, waiting for her to change her mind. No change came. His broad shoulders released their final degree of tension and he relaxed fully into the petting of every single hand.

“Oh, I’m fine with literally whatever. I just was worried you weren’t gonna like it,” he sighed with relief.

“Whatever? Are you sure?” The woman looked at him softly, leaning in to finally kiss him again.

“Yeah, totally. Just like all the other stuff we’ve been doing. I wanna have fun with you,” his eyes glossed over and he kissed her back, big hands finally moving again to hold her body and latch around the clasp of her bra. He pinched the lock with a quick snap and the garment fell away, opening a floodgate.

The softness in her eyes disappeared, and the devil in his lap possessed his whole world. She pushed herself off of his chest, grinding one final time against the bulge of his packer before hands gripped the sides of the speedo and pulled it down to his knees. Blindly, she ran fingers through the patch of turquoise curls, taking her time to tease the proximity. Her own blue eyes gazed wickedly down at him, and the man trembled with excitement.

Robin gave him one last less-than-gentle kiss and then stood up. The large fingers around her waist lifted slightly with her, but fell away as she shimmied out of her little shorts. She thought to herself for a moment, pondering back and forth over the status of her panties, though she ultimately lowered herself back down with them still on.

The woman sat at the very top of his chest. One of Franky’s hands raised to trace her over the soft fabric. Before he could get too far, the archeologist twisted her legs and turned around. Her bare chest lay against his, but she shifted so that her head positioned itself in between the man’s legs. He let out a little whimper, eyeing the way her vulva swelled under soaked panties, just inches from his face.

For as much precision and care as the craftsman had put into the rest of his numerous genital options, he had put just as much into the sculpting of his cunt. His labia was short and kept a low profile, keeping the focus squarely on his engorged clitoral nerve. He’d given himself the grace of maintaining a large degree of growth, and the woman’s soft breath against his bigger head only coaxed him into further erection.

She sighed against his softness, kissing him gently. The body beneath her twitched at the sensitive touch. There were undoubtedly countless contact sensors all crammed on the head of the pin.

Several hands traced him, achingly slowly, before she took a swipe up his leaking lips with one long finger. His slick coated her digit, testament to how hot he’d already grown. Her finger met her lips and she gazed over her shoulder to look him in the eye as she wrapped her tongue to suck it.

“You still taste the same,” she giggled, “What’s it made of?”

Her mouth found his big clit again before he could fully think through the answer to her question. One finger slowly entered him, coaxing slowly before she realized just how much room there was to work with. The single finger was removed and three took its place. Franky bit his lip and let the hands guide him deeper into ecstasy.

“’S mmmmm fuck it’s water based, with a—aah synthetic cellulose, citric uh fuck citric acid, and a secret house blend of c-caramel flavoring, lemon and AH! clove,” he whined as she sucked.

“Mmm, yes, I was picking up on the clove tasting notes,” she laughed into his folds. Her tongue rolled around his nerve and he bit his lip to keep from shouting.

Robin matched how wet the man had grown, panties dripping such a tempting distance away. And give into temptation he did.

One big palm corralled pillows in the vicinity to prop his torso up, lifting her hips with him. He held her with minimal strength in the other hand, angling the woman so that he could equally partake without removing her mouth from him. His lips, hot and warm, closed the distance to lap at the wet fabric. As he made contact, she tightened around his big nerve, sucking on the tip. A deep groan escaped him, buzzing deep into the archeologist’s core. She smiled against his pussy, adding a fourth finger.

Her hips swayed back and forth, rubbing against his nose and cheeks. Franky’s face was already growing sticky as she traced herself across his parted lips. His free hand gripped her ass tight, holding her between mechanical fingers as he licked at the wet fabric. He wanted to suck as much of her out of the garment as he could, like water in a drought.

“How’s this?” She asked, fifth finger sliding in deep. The woman had an entire phantom hand buried deep within him, but the cyborg was huge enough to take it easily. She slowly began pumping, building up speed and pressure. The presence of so many fingers filled him nicely, though the demon still had extra room if she wanted to add more.

Franky didn’t answer verbally, but he moaned loud and nodded against the cunt in his face. Robin took it as a sign to keep going. He let go of her ass, leaving five dark red grip markings behind and used the hand to pull her panties to the side. His tongue finally made contact with her wetness directly and she cried out in joy between his legs.

A sixth finger satisfied his pussy. He wasn’t sure if a second hand was beginning its work or if she had simply sprouted another digit inside of him. It didn’t matter. His tongue dove deep into her, alternating between sucking her juices and swirling over her hard nerve. It felt like heaven, like the most fun he’d had in a long, long time. The tongue on his macroclit sped up to match the pace.

His hips shuddered and he bucked up like he was wearing an entirely different attachment. The woman laughed and licked up his length, bobbing her head like he was much longer than the nerve actually appeared. A seventh finger entered him and the big cyborg man shouted, feeling all his relays start to awaken. The finger that held her panties to the side twisted involuntarily in the pleasure.

Cheap stitching tore under the slightest strain. The underwear fell away down her thigh, thin fabric disintegrating at the first application of force.

“Sh-shit s-sorry,” he apologized against her, but moaned before he could keep the thought pinned down.

“Oh, now you’ll pay,” she laughed and entered an eighth finger. There were definitely two hands working him open, and they pulled lightly in opposite directions to spread his big cunt wide. The stretch made him throw his head back, panting for oxygen.

When his face returned to meet her, she rotated the angle of her hips down, sliding herself along his long tongue, over her seam and up to her other hole. Her pelvis gyrated in tight circles around his muscle and he savored the sensation of her new tightness underneath his mouth. One big finger, no longer gripped around her shredded panties, teased her labia and penetrated deep.

Robin shouted with pleasure, grinding her ass down his mouth over and over. His strong tongue traced circles around her, occasionally dipping lightly into her hole and stretching her open microscopically. He added a second big finger. She added a ninth small one.

Words, muffled between her cheeks, began to flow from the man’s lips but she couldn’t hear him over the slosh of his messy cunt. Two full blossomed hands fucked him wide open and she sucked every centimeter of his growth with all the energy in the world.

A third hand sprouted and one finger traced his unoccupied hole. He wined against hers, tongue prodding once again.

“Can’t keep up wif you,” he hummed into her ass as she inserted herself into him. Eleven fingers and a wet mouth covered every patch of skin below his hips.

“Then don’t,” she chuckled. Lips sucked around him, the light graze of teeth and the quick flicks of tongue keeping his erect nerve bright red and swollen. He was spread even further by both hands, and the finger in his other hole twisted. Another hand grabbed around his ponytail, pulling him back an inch and then pushing him back forward to rub his face against her ass.

Franky was torn in a million directions and he unraveled in every single one of them. She filled him so completely, he was bursting at the seams. A steady stream of fluid poured out of him and down both hands that pleasured him. The shout that left his body was ragged and raw as he rode wave after wave of intense euphoria, overflowing with warmth out of every hole.

The three different hands inside of him disappeared one at a time as he crashed back down to earth. A new phantom one sprouted near his elbow to quickly encircle the woman’s own clit just a few times. He took that as his queue to grant her a deserved finale as well. The man’s tongue stretched her open just a little tighter and a third massive finger teased gently at her entrance.

It only took a matter of seconds for her to join him at the finish line. Her muscles clamped tight over his mechanical digits and industrious tongue. He hummed into her skin. The bassy vibration shook her bones, choked moans flew from her lips. Robin had obviously spent too much time with sailors; the stream of curses leaving her mouth shocking the man. Or it would have, if he hadn’t had his face buried against her asshole.

Every muscle in her body tensed all at once and then dropped into a non newtonian puddle of flesh and skin between his fingers. It took a long, long time for either of them to remember that they both possessed bones. The cool ground was refreshing against smoldering skin.

Neither of them said anything, still facing two opposite directions in the tent. Franky broke the silence first, laughing hard and slowly pulling his trapped hand out from between their two sticky bodies.

“I was really worried for nothing, huh? Wow. Yeah! Wow!” He grinned unbelievably wide.

“I really do like this attachment quite a lot,” Robin gave his pussy one last quick kiss and he shuddered with oversensitivity. She rolled on to her back, looking up at him over the tops of her spread knees.

“Just don’t like it more than my others, yeah?”

“Oh, how am I possibly expected to pick an absolute favorite?”

“That’s how I feel about them!” The man leaned forward to kiss her knee.

“You have one that you literally call The Favorite.”

“Yeah okay, I have a favorite. But everyone else comes in second,” he laughed. The cyborg’s hips wiggled to move out from underneath the body keeping him locked to the floor.

“Where are you going?” Robin asked as he shifted her legs and stood up.

“Gonna rinse off again, and then I gotta get back to work while the creative juices are still flowin’,” he smiled, whirring with joy.

“But you didn’t take your full lunch break!” The woman protested, “What will your workers’ union say?”

“Well I guess I’ll just have to take more breaks throughout the night!” He laughed, pulling his swimsuit back on, “If that’s okay with the rest of my comrades, of course.”

“Yes, I think that can be arranged,” she smiled, sliding her shorts and shirt back on but leaving her bra and destroyed panties behind. They both stepped back out into the bright afternoon, momentarily blinded by the sun.

The carpenter had only been back to work for twenty minutes. Robin sat on top of a pile of lumber, pretending to read. Her eyes kept glancing up, catching on the way his hands pushed the hand plane with a determined grip. A bead of sweat started at his hairline and rolled down his trapezius muscles, his back, his waist, his hips, and across his only garment of clothing.

She licked her lips.

“It’s a bit bright out, I might want to actually go read in the tent,” Robin called down.

Franky nodded to himself before the gears in his brain clicked the intent of her words into place. His face shot up.

“Ye-yeah. Would you like company? With your… reading?”

The two disappeared into the dark of the canvas structure once more.

“Oh crap, did you eat lunch yet?” Mozu asked her sister as they made their way down one of the backstreets.

“You know what, I totally forgot!” Kiwi answered.

“It’s kinda too late for lunch but too early for dinner, huh?”

“Well we could get food now, kill some time, and then talk bro into buying us a midnight snack?”

“Oh, and he will too because he totally owes us!”

“He totally does.”

The sun was low in the sky, bright orange light piercing the construction site. Franky shook his head, trying to keep his eyes on the board in front of him. He had never had difficulty breaking lumber down like this before. A task that usually took him minutes was taking hours.

But then again, he’d also never had a distraction like Nico Robin.

The golden rays hit her like a spotlight. She flipped the page of her book slowly. Her legs uncrossed, and from his vantage point on the ground he caught a quick glimpse between her legs flash before him. Perhaps ripping her underwear irreparably was a blessing.

“Huh, that’s weird. Could have sworn I left one of my tools right here,” he said, looking around the work station with a fabricated confusion, “I must have, uh, left it in the tent.”

“Would you like help looking for it?” She asked, suddenly looking up from her book.

“Yeah, maybe an extra set of hands or two would be nice.”

And they were gone again.

Mozu and Kiwi left the movie theater and checked the time.

“Was two more hours enough, you think?” One sister asked.

“We could start heading to the house. But we could take the long way,” the other offered.

“Yeah, we’ll walk slow.”

They both giggled.

The dusk made visibility difficult on the construction site.

They didn’t even make it to the tent by the sixth round. Robin pushed him up against the rough stack of boards and brought him to tears with her fingers right there.

“HEEEEEEEEEY, ZAMBAI!” Mozu yelled as they approached the dark ruins of their old home.

“ZAAAAAAAAAAMBAAAAAAAI!” Kiwi echoed.

“Oi! I thought you two were helping big bro out today! What are ya doing here?” The man greeted the sisters from his lawn chair in front of a crumbling segment of wall.

“He’s too preoccupied, so he sent us to run errands for him,” The one in yellow made a face like she was smelling something bad, but in her heart she figured she’d rather spend the day killing time around the city than third wheeling whatever their bro was doing.

“But we got food and saw a movie instead,” the one in pink laughed.

“What’s he need?” The man asked, lifting his goggles to his forehead.

“Just a barrel,” one sister answered, looking around the vicinity for their prize in question.

“How desperate is he?” Zambai frowned with worry.

“Pssssh, soooo desperate,” the other sister said, framed by giggles from the first.

“Well, we should hurry, yeah?” The man located what they were looking for, rolling one barrel off of a small stack, “Do you need help carrying this back? Why didn’t he just come here himself, he knows a barrel’s way too heavy for the two of you.”

“Zambai, you ask a lot of questions! Take your time, chill out,” Kiwi commented, grabbing a buzzing lantern to help illuminate their journey through the rubble heaps.

“We would have figured it out!” Mozu defended.

Kiwi smiled, “But thank you for the help, bro.”

“Yeah, no prob’,” Zambai shrugged. He readied his knees and lifted the barrel onto one shoulder. The trio set out down the beach, wandering through the piles of ruins towards the eventual location of the construction site.

“So how’s the house coming along?” A sister asked, making small talk.

“Ugh, I need a fucking break for a little bit. They fucked up the plumbing good so we haven’t had running water and that’s been a whole issue,” the man rolled his eyes, “How’s the boat?”

“It’s a lot of raw materials still, doesn’t look like much of a boat to me,” the other sister rolled her eyes.

“Plus he probably hasn’t even worked on any of it since we left,” the first snickered.

“What’s he doing? I thought he was excited about this project?” Zambai looked between the two girls flanking him.

“Yeah, but we peaced out when Robin showed up.”

“Robin?” He slowed his pace and readjusted the barrel, “Like Nico Robin? From the prison? What’d she want with him?”

“She- wait oh my god, Zambai did he not tell you?!”

“Tell me what?”

“Shiiiiiiiiiit,” Mozu laughed.

“Eeeeek!” Kiwi squealed, “Oh, you don’t know, do you? AH! This is so exciting oh my god. So like-“

“So like,” her sister cut her off, bouncing with excitement, “yeah, Robin from prison. He won’t say exactly what happened, but I guess they like, I dunno, really hit it off on the train to hell or something?”

“They were hanging out like, all day after we got back,” the pink one piggybacked, “just organizing all his books together, it was kind of a vibe. So we gave them some alone time.”

“And then we get back because like- okay so we were babysitting their little horny chef guy. Y’know, the one with the legs and the cigarette problem?- but then we get back and Mozu full ass like, walks in on them making out!”

“Making out? Or big bro? With Robin? From the prison?” Zambai looked very confused.

“Yes! Robin from prison! So then like, yesterday, right? We’re at the pool party-“

“Wait, what the hell? There was a pool party and no one invited me?!”

“You’ve been busy with the house!” The girl in yellow pat the man’s unburdened shoulder.

“Yeah but I would have liked to be told about a pool party! And told about this girl! What the hell, man? He’s my best friend and he doesn’t tell me about his new girlfriend? Or about the party?” Zambai was absolutely devastated, practically on the verge of tears.

The two sisters looked at each other, “We’re really sorry, we’ll make sure to invite you to the next one!”

“You wouldn’t have had fun, it was all Galley-La guys.”

“Yeah, the Strawhats were the ones that made it super fun, everyone else there was a fuckin’ snooze.”

“The Strawhats were there and you didn’t tell me?!” He started walking again.

“Uh, yeah duh, bro, they hosted it. That’s why Robin was there!” Kiwi laughed.

“Anyways,” Mozu picked the gossip back up, “so we’re at this party, and they’re making like, eyes at each other the whoooole time. But then- get this- she falls in the pool! And she’s a fruit user, right? So she can’t swim and he like- oh my god you should have seen him it was soooo cool.”

“Ugh, super cool! So he like, throws this table outta the way woosh and he jumps straight the fuck in, like no hesitation. And he did it! He rescued her and everything, she seems totally fine today!” Kiwi volleyed the conversation back to her sister.

“So he like, gives her to their cute little doctor thing, you know the like, little dog guy? He’s their medic I guess. So he gets her to a doctor and then he just like, disappears.”

“Poof!” The red one added her own spice of color commentary.

“We were like, looking aaaaaall over for him. But then we realized after like, an hour, that Robin- y’know, Robin from the prison?- that she’d disappeared too!”

“POOF!”

Zambai stumbled on a piece of debris in the road but steadied himself before he dropped the barrel.

“We weren’t really sure where either of them went but we had some suspicions so we left pretty quick after that,” the yellow one concluded.

“Okay, we robbed their navigator chick first. And then we dipped.”

“That was good, yeah,” they both devolved into giggles.

“Okay let me get this straight,” the man attempted to summarize.

“Bro, you can’t do anything straight,” Mozu poked at him, making him shuffle the barrel.

“Shut up! So you’re saying he met Robin at the prison, got a ride home with the Strawhats, made out with her at the warehouse, and then saved her from drowning? So what are they, like boyfriend girlfriend?”

“He keeps saying they’re not dating but like, I don’t think they’re just hooking up either? It’s kinda confusing,” Kiwi cocked her head to the side, making a diamond shape with her hair.

“Wait, hooking up?” Zambai stopped, changing which shoulder he was using to support the barrel.

“Oh! We literally forgot the best part of the story, yeah! So we asked him today where he went after the party,” the girl in yellow turned to walk backwards and continue her yarn.

“And he told us he went back to the little GC shack that the Strawhats are staying in at Dock One, and they totally got it on after he saved her life!” The pink one declared with pride for the success of her bro.

“He was bangin’ Robin from prison in the Galley-La staff quarters?” The man laughed, “Oh the mayor’s gonna kill him for sure.”

“Oh toooooootally.”

“So then what happened?”

“We dunno! She showed up at the construction site this afternoon and we made a pretty quick exit to give them some space. And now you’re all caught up!” Mozu properly concluded.

“That’s the story!” Kiwi announced, “Big bro’s been shackin’ up with Robin- who he met four days ago on his way to prison- and he won’t shut up about how cute he thinks she is. And I think he keeps drawing stuff he wants to make her. Like, cutesy stuff.”

“But they’re not dating?” Zambai clarified.

“He says he doesn’t want to be one of those pirate wives that stares longingly at the horizon.”

“That’s the gayest way he could have phrased it oh my god, bro,” the man laughed.

“You’re one to talk!” One of the girls squinted with a laugh.

“So what’s this girl like?” Zambai asked as he brushed the comment off, “Does she pass the checks? He hasn’t been into someone since he moved back to town, this is super rare for him.”

“We haven’t talked to her too much, but she seems really cool. She’s kinda emo, I think he’s really into that. He gets so flustered, you gotta see it. Suuuuper funny,” one sister giggled.

“I don’t think I even saw her face during the fight. She’s got like, bangs, yeah?” The man tried to gesture but his hands were occupied by the barrel he was holding.

“Yeah, real cute bangs. Oh and her fruit thing, she can do stuff with her hands. Like she can grow a shit ton of hands,” Mozu said with a joking wink.

Zambai laughed, “Ohhhhhhh that’s why he likes her. Fucking perv.”

Robin teased his entrance with the giant orange dildo she’d taken out of the third gun case. It fit nicely into the leather harness she’d found in the fourth.

“Ready?” The woman asked in a low voice. The disheveled man laying on the ground only whimpered and nodded, too thoroughly fucked to make any comprehensible sentences. She lined herself up and began to press in slowly.

“Wait!” Franky gasped and she pulled out halfway. He put his finger to his lips, fighting the haze of lust as he listened, “Someone’s coming.”

“Someone better be coming,” she laughed and rubbed her thumb over his throbbing nerve.

“No I- mmmm- I mean outside. I heard voices.”

The devil woman looked with a disembodied eye, scanning the construction site for intruders. She sighed and pulled out another inch, “It’s your friends, they’re back and I think they brought you dinner.”

“But I’ve been eating so well all day!” He laughed and wiggled his way off of the rest of the toy, “Actually, I probably should go top off, I’m running on fumes.”

“I’d hate to see you stall out now.”

“The night’s young! I got a lot of work to do still anyways.”

“Oh yes, you’ve been working very diligently.”

They both laughed.

“BROOOOOOOOOOO!” A faint yell floated through the air.

“BRO, WE’RE NOT TAKING A SINGLE STEP CLOSER TO THAT TENT UNTIL WE SEE YOU OUTSIDE AND FULLY CLOTHED!” One woman’s voice carried on the wind.

“WE DON’T EVEN NEED FULLY CLOTHED JUST YOUR NORMAL AMOUNT THAT’S ALL! BUT WE DON’T WANNA SEE NO BITS OR NOTHIN’!” A similar voice echoed.

“How do I look?” Franky asked, gesturing to himself. He threw on a shirt that he hadn’t been wearing earlier in the day and adjusted the placement of his swimsuit. Two hands sprouted from his shoulders and pulled his wilted hair back into the half-ponytail that he had styled it in that morning.

“Mmm, very handsome. A little messy, but not too messy. Like you’ve been working hard,” Robin smiled as she put her clothes back on as well.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” He laughed with a wink and a finger gun.

“I think the abandoned mill outside would argue for the later.”

“BRO IF YOU WANT THIS COLA YOU GOTTA COME AND GET IT YOURSELF, WE’RE NOT BRINGING IT TO YOU.”

The pair did one last set of checks. A big hand smothered dark bangs down and many little hands attempted to press the wrinkles out of the gaudy button up. They both shrugged at the mutual, unavoidable tousled aesthetics. After nine rounds in five hours, the evidence was an inevitability.

Franky left the tent first, waving with bravado to his friends holding their ground at the furthest threshold of the lumber yard. Robin stepped out from behind the canvas with significantly more caution, almost shy.

“Oi! Zambai! You’re here!” The big cyborg ran over to his friends and picked up the barrel with ease. He turned and carried it over to rest between two saw horses. Everyone convened on both sides of the man, crowding in a little too tight.

“Uh, hey I’m Zambai, I’m big bro Franky’s best friend,” the new companion announced, holding out his hand to the dark haired woman.

“Hello Zambai, I’m Robin,” she greeted in return. Her eyes flicked down to her hands, though she frowned and grew a new, assuredly clean one to shake the man’s.

“From the prison?” He asked.

“Yes, from the prison,” she chuckled.

“I was there! I was just, uh, on King Bull duty. But that was really cool, I’m glad you’re safe!” Zambai laughed nervously.

“Oh shit, wait, what the fuck? You two don’t know each other, fuck, uh, crap,” Franky froze, hand on the halfway open spigot refilling glass bottles, “Uh Robin this is Zambai, he’s like, my number two dude. Zambai, this is Robin, she’s my- she- she’s- m- she- we- I mean she- uh, we met on the train to prison.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” the woman smiled. Mozu and Kiwi started to back away slowly and Robin caught on quickly to their signals. Soon, without much notice, the two men were standing alone next to each other.

The cyborg put two of his refilled bottles back in place, drinking directly from the third. He made his way over to a little pit dug out in the sand, lined with rocks and filled with strips of scrap wood. The other man looked over his shoulder and spun when he realized all of the women had left them alone.

“Bro what the hell!” Zambai announced without any attempt to mask the frustration in his voice.

“Uhhh whadduya mean, dude?” Franky squat in the sand next to the small stack of wood and picked up a long shaving.

“I had to hear about you hooking up with Nico fucking Robin from Mozu and Kiwi?! That hurts, bro! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry dude,” the blue haired man blew a light stream of fire onto the kindling between his fingers, setting the end ablaze. He lowered the starter into the rest of the pit and watched the flames catch on the other logs.

“What have you been up to that you’ve been too busy to tell me?”

“Uh, I’ve been hooking up with Robin, I thought that was super self explanatory. I’m really sorry I forgot to tell you, bro. It just slipped my mind, promise. The last few days have been somethin’ else, whew,” he puffed his cheeks and blew out. A lingering lick of fire escaped out his lips.

“And you didn’t tell me about the pool party! You know I love a pool party!” Zambai sounded almost closer to crying over the missed party opportunity.

“It was super spontaneous! We can throw a beach party once the house and the ship are done, we’ll invite everyone over before they leave. We got plenty of time!” Franky stood from the bonfire and put his free hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“Ugh, fuck, about that, bro,” the man in the leather romper frowned with annoyance, “The plumbing’s all fucked, like deep down. So we’re going to have to scrap a ton of it and rebuild. Can you come look at it when you’re free?”

“Fuuuuuck, fine, sure. I’ll find a time to stop by. I should have a chance once this thing’s framed. Maybe get to it after I finish the docking system but before the laser configuration. I think? I’ll check the schedule,” the cyborg stared down at the growing flames. The pile of work he had to get done was only growing, and he’d already wasted almost six hours that day already. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“It’s all good,” Zambai put his hand on top of the metal one on his shoulder, “You focus on what you’ve got going on. But uh, and I don’t want to seem rude, bro, but you seem kinda out of it today. And if she-“

“No, no, I know. I just needed to get it out of my system all at once today. I’ll be back in the rhythm tomorrow, promise. I just got a little distracted, tha’s all.”

“She’s cute. And she seems nice. And, most importantly bro, you seem really happy. So like, I get it,” the dark haired man smiled up at his best friend.

“What the fuck do you know about women, dude?” Franky laughed and hit the other man’s free shoulder lightly with the back of his hand.

“I know she’s probably pretty trustable with bangs like that,” Zambai joked, “This is good for you, I think.”

“Yeah, I think so, too. Super good,” the blue man smiled, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Things just moved so quick. But now we got plenty of time, it’ll be great.”

“I get it, dude. And thanks for introducing us.”

Franky pulled Zambai into a tight hug and they squeezed for a moment, both attempting to keep the other man from seeing their respective tears.

“But you owe me a party,” the shorter man laughed as they pulled apart with one final manly back pat.

The cyborg looked over at the two sisters, now scouting a new perch much further from the tent. “Hey, did you guys see where Robin went?” He yelled over to them. They both pointed silently at the canvas shelter.

“Don’t you have like, a job?” Zambai raised both eyebrows teasingly.

“Nah, I’m on my dinner break,” Franky grinned wide. He took a long swig from his bottle and sauntered off towards the tent.

Mozu chucked a rock into the slow tide of the sea.

“No way, I can throw much further than that,” Kiwi laughed at her and threw a pebble. It splashed in the dark waves.

“That wasn’t further, that was just as far,” her sister bickered.

“How long is he gonna take? No wonder you guys ditched him earlier,” Zambai muttered, throwing another rock himself.

“We were gonna try and get him to buy food tonight, you think we could ask him once he’s done... again?” The young woman asked and looked over. All three people stood on top of one of the lumber stacks, tossing stones into the ocean from a pile they’d collected.

“Yeah food sounds good. All this waiting, he owes us,” the man shrugged, not without some annoyance, and readied the next projectile.

“That’s what we were sayin’!” The girls said in unison.

Zambai hurled his stone and then turned to look back at the city. The lights always looked the best on still, clear nights. He was reminded of a huge chandelier that lit up the ocean. The glimmer flickered a bit and the man squinted at the shadows.

“Hey, sis, you see this?” He leaned over to Mozu and pointed. She shook her head and he lowered his goggles to try and get a closer look. Sure enough, a dark figure wormed its way between the stacks of debris, expertly weaving through scrap metal and sea worn wood.

“What’s that?” Kiwi leaned in and squinted.

“It’s- oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit,” Zambai lifted his eyewear and jumped off the top of the lumber, “It’s the fucking mayor. You guys go distract him, I’ll make sure big bro’s presentable.”

“Ha! Good luck with that!” The woman in yellow laughed, lowering herself off the pile.

“Take these,” the one in pink said, handing him rocks from their collection. He nodded in thanks and slowly began to inch toward the tent.

Zambai was far enough away still that he couldn’t hear anything, but close enough that he could see the sides of the tent flap gently. This was going to suck, he thought.

“Bro!” He hissed in a loud whisper and threw a rock at the canvas. No answer.

“Broooo!” He said in a slightly louder voice, chucking two rocks at the door specifically.

Silence.

He took a cautious few steps nearer to the structure. A little giggle floated on the air. Then, he heard a sound he’d never heard his big bro make before.

“BrooooOOOOooo,” Zambai half yelled, desperately. He three three rocks, one after another. The third missed its target and he lobbed a fourth. Every instinct told him to cover his ears, but his hands were full of rocks.

“You, heh, you’re gonna- ohhhhhhhh my god yeah like that,” Franky’s voice escaped the tent. The cyborg's best friend was out of patience and company was closing in fast. The dark haired man dropped his rocks on the ground and plugged his ears, running with his head down to the side of the tent.

Zambai slapped the thick canvas with a flat palm and yelled, “BRO! Iceburg, dead ahead. Get your ass out here NOW.”

The sounds from inside the tent stopped very suddenly. There was a pause, then rustling. Franky poked his tousled head (and just his head) out of the tent flap.

“Why you hangin' out here, ya creep? Gimme some privacy!” He looked up at the other man.

“Because someone had to tell you that Iceburg’s heading this way, and I don’t think the girls can distract him forever,” Zambai said, eyes locked on the sand, his blush clear even in the dim light of the campfire.

“Uh, wait, fuck did you say Burg’s on his way? Shit this is super bad. Uh, cool. Thanks for telling me. How much time do I have?”

“Thirty seconds maybe?”

“Fuck, okay. Thanks for the heads up, ya voyeur.”

“Any time, ya exhibitionist.”

“Fishnet wearing slut.”

“Speedo wearing pervert.”

They both laughed and paused before remembered the strict time limit.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Robin’s fingers glanced over the candy colored toys while she stared at the bare ass of the man talking out the tent’s door. She picked up a small yellow vibrator with a smile, pocketing its similarly bright corresponding periphery. If the mayor was on his way, then it was time to have some real fun.

Franky turned back from the door and ran over to grab his clothes.

“You gotta hide, like, now,” he laughed as he fixed his collar. “Burg can’t know you’re here.”

“Put this in,” she demanded, holding out the toy. The man took it blindly.

“Hell yeah, kinky, I like it! But seriously, get dressed and hide.”

He pushed the dildo in gently, snapped his swimsuit back on, kissed the top of her head, and ran out the front of the tent.

“Where the hell are you, Bakanky?” The mayor of Water Seven yelled with irritation, looking around the neglected campsite.

“Calling me Bakanky? What the fuck are you dude, sixteen again?” The tall cyborg rounded the corner, arms crossed, annoyance written all over his face.

“Don’t you have a ship to be working on?” Iceburg asked, looking at the half finished board that lay damp in the night’s sea spray.

“Don’t you have a hospital bed to be rotting in?” The other man threw right back.

“I needed to talk to you directly,” the mayor scowled.

“And you couldn’t have like, called?”

“Do you have a snail set up here?”

“…No.”

The older man scoffed, “That’s what I thought.”

“So whatcha here for? My charming attitude and pleasant company?” Franky laughed, batting his long eyelashes in jest. He picked up the discarded hand plane and began to work on his hardwood plank once more.

“We need to talk about the investigation,” Iceburg smoothed down his suit.

“What investigation?”

“The one that’s being held into who broke into Blueno’s, drank half a barrel of cola, broke every bottle on the shelf, and then shot bullets into the walls!” The mayor sighed.

“Oh, whoa, someone uh, broke into Blueno’s? That’s wild, have they caught the perp yet? Sounds super dangerous,” The cyborg didn’t look up from his work, deciding to play ignorant. His lips were shut, especially without a lawyer around.

“That’s what I came to ask you about.”

“I didn’t see anything, you can’t make me talk. I want a lawyer.”

“I- ugh,” the shorter man pinched the bridge of his nose in agony, “There’s no charges to press because there’s no party to press them.”

“Uh duh, why do you think I picked his bar in the first place,” Franky whispered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

“The public still wants answers, but it’s just going to fizzle out. You’re off the hook, at least legally,” Iceburg shook his head but his frustration did not cease.

“You had no proof, I was never on the hook to begin with! Psh, this isn’t justice! Why are you here, then? Or did you really come all this way to tell me an investigation I didn’t know about isn’t affecting me?”

The mayor looked the other man dead in the eyes and asked sternly, “Who were you with?”

“I wasn’t there, and if I was I wasn’t with anyone,” the bigger guy defended.

“We have an eye witness that saw two people leaving the bar at four thirty in the morning. One of them was definitely you,” Iceburg pulled his mouse out of his pocked and began to stroke its fur to calm down, “the other was a woman.”

Shit.

And then things got worse.

Somewhere in the campsite, a gentle hand momentarily flipped the switch on the remote that controlled the vibrator that Franky had inserted without thinking. Toy betrayed its maker.

Bzzzt.

A big hand flew to his mouth to stifle whatever noise his worn out body wanted to make.

“No,” he cried against his palm.

“Don’t look so shocked,” the mayor squinted at him, “I know you were with someone, and I know who it was. So just come clean. Why won’t you heed our warnings about this?”

A phantom hand grew from the wall of lumber and waved, hiding in the blind spot behind the other man. This was hell, this was torture, they should have just sent him to prison when they had the chance, Franky thought.

“I wasn’t with anyone,” he shook his big head, doubling down.

“Wrong answer, don’t lie to me.”

Bzzzzt.

He wanted to cry.

“No-no one.”

“Let me rephrase the question,” Iceburg took a step forward, “Why did you and Nico Robin break into Blueno’s three nights ago? Was it revenge? Did you rob him? And why are you spending time with her?”

“Bro, you really gotta stop it with this Nico Robin obsession,” bzzt, “It’s been like, two decades. Chill out!”

“Me? Me?!” Iceburg raised his voice, and he would have been almost intimidating if the hand hiding behind him hadn’t started to make a crude back and forth stroking gesture. “I am not the one with a goddam Nico Robin obsession, from the looks of it!”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

Franky knocked his tools off the work surface and doubled over, trying to hide the involuntary reaction.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The mayor scowled down at the man’s pathetic posture.

“We broke in just to get a drink, I don’t know how everything else happened,” it was a terribly sloppy lie, but he was feeling terribly sloppy anyway. Bzt.

“Don’t lie to me, Flam. That kind of mess doesn’t just happen. The screaming? The gunshots? What did you two do? And why did you get a drink with her hours after we told you to do the exact opposite? You never listen!”

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzzzzt.

“The gun was an accident, my arm misfired, we didn’t mean to make a mess,” A bead of sweat dripped down the cyborg’s big forehead as he managed to stand up straight again.

“What’s going on between you two? Are you acting on this crush? Did you take her out?”

“It’s nothing! It wasn’t romantic or nothin, I swear! We just needed to decompress after the fight. It was super intense and she just had some stuff she wanted to talk through. No big deal, I’m keeping all my feelings to myself,” There was an air of desperation in Franky’s voice that he hoped the other man couldn’t pick up on, “I don’t have the balls or the time to ask her if she like-likes me back before she leaves town, so I’m keepin’ it to myself! She’ll just be my friend, and I’m just doodling our names into my notebooks and drawing little hearts around it. ”

It was the least he’d lied all conversation. Five short bursts exploded inside of him for his honesty. Hell, he was in hell.

Iceburg laughed, “What have you settled on? Cutty Robin?”

“Ew, psh, fuck no! Nico Flam!”

That answer earned him a loooooooong buzz. A second hand appeared in the blind spot and they both flashed thumbs-ups. The cyborg threw the briefest of matching signs under the wood board, assuming she had plenty of different angles to watch him. The hands shifted to okay signs, signaling that she’d caught his confirmation.

BZZZzzzzzt.

He almost screamed.

“What’s that sound?” The older man cocked his head.

“‘M, uh, having some trouble with my, uh, gears since we got to town. I think something’s up with the fridge. It’s been making weird noises, musta been jostled in the fight.”

He opened the fridge door and Robin was smart enough to play along.

BUUUUUUUZZZZZZT! The sound echoed louder through his open cavity. Glass bottles tinkled against each other.

“See? Don’t know what that’s all about. Gotta find some time to fix that…” he trailed off, slamming the door shut before the overstimulation took him.

“You’re falling apart, old man,” Iceburg laughed, sharp edges momentarily softening.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Franky responded through grit teeth.

“Why are you still pursuing this crush?” The mayor asked, returning to the subject at hand. “She’s very dangerous! She’s a rogue pirate that specializes in torture and assassination!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzt bzzzt bzzzzt bzzzzzzzzzt.

The two hidden hands shot finger guns at the cyborg. He ached for death. If she was so damn good at assassination, he would have preferred for her to put him down quickly. This torment was much, much worse.

“I think you DO know that, and I think that’s what you like about her, you damn masochist!” bzt bzt, “Are you, or are you not, attempting to seduce Nico Robin? Even after everything we warned you about?” Iceburg continued his interrogation. The devil continued her torture. Bzzt.

“I wouldn’t say attempting, no,” the lighter of the two blue men barely choked out. Attempting? Nah. Successfully seducing was much closer to the truth. Though, in the moment, it felt more like he was the one being seduced. Bzzt, bzzt.

“So then get over this flirtation before you get hurt! This thing- whatever it is- is only ending one way for you. It’s inevitable. If she doesn’t hurt you physically, she’s hurting you emotionally. I saw you at the party yesterday, you’ve already got a soft spot for her. You’re sentimental, and you’re a lot more sensitive than you let on.”

“What was I supposed to do, let her die? Feelings or nothin’, I didn’t want to her gettin’ hurt. She wasn’t gonna drown, not on my watch,” Franky looked away, hiding the tear rolling down his cheek. Bzzzt bzzzzzzt bzzzt, the pressure mounted. Something shifted. His leg shook involuntarily. Bzzzzt bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt bzzzzt.

“Are you alright?” Iceburg looked almost worried.

“Uhhhhhhh I gotta piss, hang on,” the shipwright announced and sprinted in the opposite direction to hide behind a stack of lumber. He turned, leaning against the rough wood, finally alone. Two hands gripped into his hair, four over his abdomen, two fingers in his mouth.

“Obsessed? Masochist? Tortured? Do you think so lowly of yourself?” Lips whispered behind his ear. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt bzzzt bzzzt bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt.

He was gone. The fingers in his mouth shifted to cover his lips as he came, stifling every part of the scream he needed to get out. She held him tight by the hair to keep him from collapsing as the torturous orgasm rolled through his body. He was overstimulated and exhausted, worn out by his tenth climax in just a few short hours. Tears gathered in his lashes as he convulsed one last time.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

After waiting a moment for his soul to return, Franky slowly stepped out from his hiding place. He adjusted his swimsuit for the showmanship and took a few long breaths to relax.

The president of the Galley-La Company was looking down at the half-leveled board.

“Your work’s getting sloppy. You’re rusty, you damn tin can. And you’re slow,” he criticized.

“Slow?! Look at how much crap I got done today alone!” The cyborg gestured to the keel and the many, many stacks of planks. His voice shook from the rush, but he disguised it in a costume of defensive anger.

“Yeah, I’d say you’re running- what- six hours behind schedule already? You’ll never get done within the month at this pace.”

“This is my project,” Franky growled, “You had the chance to take this job and you passed on it, so I’m doing this and I’m doing it my way. I don’t need your criticism, it’s gonna be a super fuckin’ ship, without you corporate military contractor assholes getting involved!”

Iceburg paced forward. A sparkling, blue eye blossomed in the middle of his forehead without his notice. Robin was watched her companion up close, basking in his lingering glow. This was funny for her.

“I’m just going to cut to the chase,” the business man folded his suited arms, “I need the Strawhats out of town by Friday. Admiral Aokiji’s helping me cover for the time being, and he was very generous to agree to dropping charges against my family and yours. But I can’t get a reputation for harboring pirates in this city. So like it or not, you’re getting five of my best men and fifty alright ones bright and early, six a.m. tomorrow. This ship’s getting built- fast. Do you understand me?”

Franky stammered “F-Friday?”

“Four days, which is three full days of work. If we take over the core of the shipbuilding, you can focus on, well, whatever it is you do. Canons or lasers or crap like that. And then they’ll be out of here, sailing off to the New World.” 

“Y-yeah. Three full days. They’ll be gone by the weekend. Sounds, uh, super, I guess.”

The cyborg paled, unnoticeable under the flickering light of the bonfire. Three full days- work days under the company’s speed, at that- were not in his plans. Three well-paced weeks would have given him time to savor his momentary lover. Three weeks was the ideal length for a great shore leave flirtation. The sudden arrival of the much closer deadline, however, caught on something in the back of his throat. Robin would be gone in three days.

“You will not stall this project. You will not put the reputation and the economy of this city at risk because of this woman. Focus, build the ship you want to build, and then let it sail away. Tom built his life here, he didn’t go chasing the Oro Jackson. He had other dreams, other goals. He found something else to love. Let. This. Go. And unless you’re thinking of doing something drastic, you need to let her go, too.” Iceburg’s words were punctuated and sharp.

“I’m staying right here, ain’t goin’ nowhere. Like how Tom did it. Roger came back for checkups, these kids’ll do the same. I’ll see ‘em when they come back one day,” Franky nodded, though the words were mumbled slightly to himself.

The mayor sighed, “That’s actually the last thing I needed to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” There was no way to hide the lingering disappointment in his voice.

“The new bounties for the Strawhats are getting posted tomorrow. I’ve been stalling for as long as I can to keep the fliers from going out, but the newspaper in the morning will supersede any of my authority,” Iceburg said as he put Tyrannosaurus back in his pocket and turned to make sure he had all his things.

“But they’ll be okay through Friday, yeah?” The cyborg cocked his head.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll focus on getting the ship done, and I don’t think this town’s primary bounty hunter’s going to turn them in. Unless you surprise me again and have a very sudden change of heart. I don’t think you will, though. And you’ll be too busy working. But, well, I wanted to give you a heads up. You made the cut, too. You’re Wanted. Forty-four million. I can’t have the trouble that a bounty that big comes with,” the business man sighed, visibly worried.

“I-I did? Well, er, yeah I guess that makes sense. I kinda always knew it was always a matter of time. Can’t be the face of the underground and bounty-less, ha! They’d laugh me out of my first day at Bad Guy School!”

“I’m going to need you to start figuring out arrangements for that, understood?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll just change my name, change my face. Easy. I’ve done it before, I can do it again,” Franky shrugged. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of becoming a different man, but maybe it was time for a fresh start. Nothing like a new look after a big heartbreak.

“You know it won’t be as easy as last time, not this time, not on the scale of shit you’ve gotten yourself into. Make other arrangements. Get-out-of-town arrangements,” the mayor looked away and back at the city.

“I’ll take the train to San Faldo and lay low for a bit, it’s super fine.”

“No it isn’t, Franky! This problem is far from fine. It’s different, I can’t keep you safe from this! So whatever crap you have to figure out, get it out of your system, and do it quickly! By Friday.”

Iceburg turned to leave, a wide range of emotions scrawled across his face. The eye that had bloomed on his forehead disappeared, one soft petal floating down the side of the man’s face. Iceburg’s hand caught the flower between to fingers.

“Three days, that’s all I can do for you. You won’t be at risk while you’re working on the ship, but you’re on your own after that. Whatever you decide, you’re not staying in this town. Not like this, anyway. Change is coming, whether you like it or not. I’m sorry. I’ll see you in the morning. Six o’clock. You’d better be on time, this is your project so you’re taking the lead,” the stately man began walking down the path back to the city. The other one walked along side him a short ways.

“Yeah, I gotcha. I appreciate it. Thanks, bro.”

“Oh, and Franky?”

“Eh?”

Iceburg handed the other man the pink petal.

“I don’t want to see her hanging around the site tomorrow. It’s an active construction zone. Not a library, not a party, not a brothel. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, loud and clear, boss.”

“I’m not your boss, Franky. This is your project, we follow your blueprints. I need your head focused, no distractions.”

“Yeah, loud and clear, uh, comrade.”

The businessman rolled his eyes and pat the cyborg squarely on his back. “I’ll see you in the morning, Bakanky. Get some rest. If you can pull this off, you’ll be one step closer to the life you’ve always wanted.”

“Just gotta loose the life I got right now to get it. We’ll see if it’s worth it, I guess,” Franky smiled, fangs bared in a forced grimace.

“Yeah, we’ll see. Goodnight. Sleep, you’ve got a long three days ahead of you.”

Iceburg kept walking after the other man stopped, wandering into the night and disappearing behind the mountains of scrap. Franky stood alone on the moonlit path. Three days. Three long days. Three actually very short days. Practically no time left at all. He kicked in frustration at one of the pallets. The reinforcing rebar in his prosthetic ankle met exceedingly hard wood, neither of them losing but neither of them winning either.

Tonight was all the freedom he had left.

“Well, now we know for a fact that it’ll be a sturdy ship,” a light voice fell from high up on a stack behind him. Robin sat with her legs crossed, backlit by the waning gibbous.

“I…” he looked down, unsure of how to even begin formulating all of his thoughts.

“Three and a half days, now that definitely changes quite a lot. We’ll just have to get more creative,” Robin crooned.

“More crea- what are you saying? We’re out of time. After tonight, I don’t know how long I can spend with you. And then you’re gone. The ship’ll be gone, my house is gone. I gotta leave town, so my family’ll be gone too. That’s it, that’s all my dreams right there. It wasn’t supposed to be like this- FUCK! What the hell?!” His voice shook and he could feel himself well up.

Soft feet landed on cool sand, barely making a noise. Hands, her real hands, wrapped around the big man’s waist so that she could hold him from behind.

“Then, if tonight’s really it, we’ll just have to enjoy it.”

“Do it with a fuckin’ don,” he whispered, wiping his face dry.

“A what?”

“’S a thing my old man used to say. Pride, gusto. End with a fuckin’ bang.”

“Mmmmmm yes.”

There was a long silence while she held him. The only interruption came from the soft lapping of the ocean waves.

“It’s gettin’ super cold out,” Franky shivered in the night air, “Would you want to move somewhere warmer?”

“Did you have some place in mind?” The demon smiled mischievously into his kitschy shirt fabric.

“I think I saw a tent around here somewhere…”

Robin awoke some time near what she could only assume was the middle of the night. A big hand curled around her shoulder, shaking her oh so gently. Eyes fluttered open, and she realized just how cold she felt, naked on the bed roll.

“Hey, sorry to wake you up,” Her lover whispered, squatting down next to her.

“Mmm?” She eased into consciousness, wiping the side of her mouth. The tent was dark, the lantern turned down as low as it could stay.

“So, uh, the girls were wanting a late night food run. And I kinda forgot to eat all day today. We’re going to put in an order. Did you want anything?” Franky’s eyes were soft as he stroked her bedhead.

“Food?” The archeologist mumbled, “what time is it?”

“Close to one thirty,”

“You eat at one thirty in the morning?” She yawned.

“Yeah, that’s when food like, tastes the best!” He laughed.

“Hmmmmmm…”

“You don’t need to order anything if you’re not hungry. I’ll send the sisters to pick me up something if you want to stay here and sleep, no worries,” the man smiled and stood up.

Robin sat up and checked into her body. It had been a while since she’d eaten, and the cook was going to give her hell for skipping dinner. Her stomach twisted. Maybe solid food was a good idea.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll go,” she slowly pushed herself up from the nest of pillows.

“Really?! Oh, fuckin’ super, let’s roll out!”

The cyborg grabbed her hand and pulled like he was heading for the tent’s door, momentarily forgetting that nakedness was not her usual state of being.

“Wait!” She chuckled, letting go of his hand to grab her discarded t-shirt and shorts.

He laughed too, eyes soaking her in as she got dressed for what felt like the fifteenth time that day. They should have just committed to staying in and staying nude. Next time.

Not that there would be any next times.

Mozu and Kiwi were standing around the dead campfire, pouring sand on the smoldering embers. They both shivered in the late night beach air. Robin smiled meekly as she joined them, and they greeted her with knowing grins. The breeze picked up and all three women shivered.

“Hey, I don’t have any jackets, but you could take a shirt if you need an extra layer,” the man offered his lover and only his lover.

“He hates us and he wants us to suffer,” Mozu’s teeth chattered.

“Why does he hate us?” Kiwi warmed her arms up.

Franky rolled his eyes, “Okay, do you want shirts, too?”

“Ew, fuck no.”

“Gross!”

“Sure,” Robin accepted, and the man momentarily disappeared back into the structure. He came out quickly with one more purple and abstractly floral, something a bit closer to the woman’s own style. Only a little bit closer, though.

“Here,” he held it out and she took it.

“Thank you,” she peered around the campsite, “Where’s your other friend?”

“Zambai’s back at the house, he’s getting the orders from all the night crew guys. He’ll meet us there,” Kiwi answered, shivering again in her swimsuit.

The group of four double checked their belongings. Robin grabbed her long discarded book bag and slung it over her shoulder. They all nodded and set off for the city, mountains of lumber becoming mountains of scrap becoming mountains of limestone.

The walk wasn’t impossibly far; she recognized their general destination as being fairly close to her crew’s lodging at Dock One. The sisters made small talk, summarizing the film they had apparently seen that afternoon.

“Where are we going, again?” The archeologist asked with a yawn.

“This place is a late night kinda thing, quick meals for the dock workers mostly. Hamburgers, fries, fish, stuff like that. They shouldn’t be super busy this late but that’s because we’re bringing the late night rush,” the man explained, coyly grabbing her hand as they walked.

“Four is a late night rush?” She cocked her head but slid up a bit closer to the big body next to her.

“Uh, not exactly.”

The startling sound of boots running up behind them made the woman tense up. Gloved hands grabbed Franky’s shoulders as Zambai jumped towards the cyborg with an excited shout.

“Heeeeeey! I’m glad I caught up, I thought for sure you’d beat me!” The dark haired man laughed, roughhousing in the backstreets. His big bro laughed, too, shouldering him right back.

“We took our time. You got the list?” He asked, and his second in command handed over a long scrap of paper. Franky tucked it into his swimsuit, undoubtedly a less secure holding spot than Zambai’s pocket.

“Oh! And I brought these from home!” The newcomer tossed two jackets to the sisters. They cheered and zipped themselves in, almost immediately looking more comfortable.

The little group walked for just a bit longer before stopping in front of a neon lit storefront. No one was inside the restaurant this late at night, but the lights were on and the air lingered with the smell of hot oil and grilled onions.

The bell above front door rang as the group of five shuffled inside.

“Welcome to Waterburger wh— oh hey, Franky, what’s up?” The tired girl behind the counter looked up from her newspaper with a snap. She rolled the print up and used it to hit the old man asleep in a chair in the little kitchen.

“Wha-?” He stirred, decrepitly.

“Wake up! Time to ear your rent, Pops,” she said, hitting him again.

“Hey, Tiff,” Franky waved as they approached the front counter.

“Heeeeey Tiff,” Mozu and Kiwi called in unison.

“Hey Zambai,” Tiff nodded.

“Hey, Pops!” Franky shouted into the kitchen.

“Fuck you, Franky,” the old chef hunched his shoulders and started to ready the grill.

“What’s the damage?” the girl asked, holding up her open palm.

Franky handed her the list directly but paused right before he released the paper. “Oh wait, it’s gonna be kinda different tonight, can you ring up an order for here, but have it come out after the big one. Just two. And then this is for the guys,” he clarified before letting go of the note in her palm.

“Two for here?”

“Yeah, one of them’s me, so my usual. And then, uh,” he spun, looking over his shoulder for the woman who had hung back during the bewildering greeting of camaraderie. He beaconed her forward and pointed to a little chalk sign on the wall, “Menu’s there, just lemme know what you want once you know.”

“Hm,” Robin froze, half exhausted and half overwhelmed. “I don’t know,” she puzzled, “What’s your usual order?”

“He gets a number four with two extra patties, ketchup, mustard, extra sauce, lettuce, pickle, tomato, extra cheese, grilled onion, jalapeños, bacon, and an egg with a large fry and a large cola,” Tiff sighed as she wrote the order down and calculated the bill by heart.

“That seems, um, excessive for two o’clock in the morning,” the archeologist looked up at the big grinning man.

“He calls it Funky Style.”

“It’s not going to catch on, bro, no one’s ordering that mess!” Mozu giggled and hit his shoulder lightly.

“Sure they will, it’s just a matter of time! Gotta leave some kind of legacy behind!” He laughed, keeping his attention fixed on the woman next to him. Tiff shot Mozu, Kiwi, and Zambai a look, eyebrows raised. They all grinned and raised six thumbs up behind the pair lost in their own little world.

“I’m hungry but I’m not that hungry,” Robin mused.

“K so you’re probably just gonna want a Number One or a Number Two,” Franky guided her.

“What’s the difference?”

“Cheese.”

“I like cheese.”

“Number Two. Are you fine with all the normal roughage?” He asked

“Roughage?”

“Like lettuce and all that crap.”

“Oh, yes that’s fine I guess.”

“You like sauce?”

“Sauce?”

“Like, uh, burger sauce?”

“What sort of sauce is burger sauce?”

“Uhhhh shit I don’t actually know. Hey Tiff, what’s burger sauce?”

“I don’t know, it’s just sauce!” The girl threw her hands up.

“Sure, I’ll have sauce,” Robin thought hard, “But I don’t want, what did you call it? Funky Style? No. I’m not ingesting that. I think it would kill me.”

“Boooo,” the man teased.

Tiff looked exhausted, “Would you like a side of fries?”

“Do I want a side of fries?” The dark haired woman kept her gaze up at the man.

“Up to you. But if you’re not sure we can just split mine,” he offered.

“Yeah, alright. No fries.”

“Drink?” The young woman asked as she wrote the order down and hit more mechanical keys on her cash register.

“I don’t generally drink caffeine this late.”

“We sell non-caffeinated drinks. There’s other flavors of beverages, don’t listen to him.”

“Wait, do you really?” Franky’s jaw dropped.

“Dumbass,” Zambai laughed.

“What kinds?” Robin inquired.

“Lemon, orange, ginger…”

“Oh my god you learn something new every day!” The cyborg chuckled to himself, “You think you know a place inside and out after eating there twice a week for twenty years and then they tell you they serve more than one type of drink! Who coulda guessed?!”

“Ginger,” the archeologist answered.

“How much do you want?” The girl asked to clarify.

“How much?”

“Like cup size. We have normal cups and then we have cups specifically for,” her eyes shot to the man, “literally just him. And some of the dock guys. But mostly him.”

“Oh, um, the normal amount.”

“Cool. Hey, old man! Did you catch that? A plain Number Two and whatever the hell Franky gets,” Tiff yelled at the man in the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah, Franky you fucking bastard. One of these days I’ll fucking kill you, I swear. You goddam idiot, shit taste mother fucker,” the old man grumbled as he began throwing onions down on the griddle.

“There are ladies present, you old fuck! And at least I pay, I’m like your burger shack sugar daddy!”

“Ew don’t ever say anything like that again,” Kiwi cringed.

“Twenty eight hundred beri,” Tiff held out her hand.

“Yeah, yeah,” he pulled a dense wad of cash out of somewhere, pulling off the first few big bills and handing them to the woman.

“I told you, stop keeping your money in there. I need to give this cash to other customers, you know. This is a food establishment, we have to keep some hygiene standards,” she scowled.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s super clean, promise!”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

The tired young woman put his change on the counter, shifting her attention to the list she’d been given.

“And that’s uh, thirty four patties, eight chickens, fourteen fish, twenty six fries, nine onion rings, fucking hell, twelve shakes and three regular colas. I hate you people,” Tiff repeated, ringing up each line of the order.

“I count down the days until you disappear from town and never show back up!” The cook yelled over the sound of the hot plate.

“Then do I have some super excellent news for you, Pops! You’re gonna regret sayin’ that, and you’ll totally miss your favorite customer once I’m gone.”

“Wait, what?” Zambai spoke up, grabbing his best friend’s shoulder.

“Ehhhh I don’t wanna talk about it right now,” Franky grumbled to the man before turning back to the girl at the counter, “How much do I owe ya?”

“Fifty six thousand.”

“Fifty six thousand?!”

“Did you see how much you ordered? This much food for fifty six thousand is a bargain!”

The cyborg rolled his eyes and handed over the majority of his cash with exasperation. The girls laughed and Zambai thanked the waitress. The old man in the back let off another long string of curses as he threw down the first dozen disks of ground, raw beef.

Robin chuckled to herself and slipped off down a little hallway, following signs for the restroom. She pushed through the swinging door and headed straight to the sink to wash the day’s activities off of her hands. A cursory mirror check revealed that the damage wasn’t nearly as bad as she’d assumed. She looked tired, but an acceptable amount of tired for two in the morning. The archeologist smiled sleepily and opened an ear under a table and an eye on the crowded bulletin board.

“WHO is THAT?!” Tiff hissed to the gang, pointing in the direction Robin had left in.

“Eh? Oh that’s Robin, she’s a friend of mine. Super cool, I promise.”

“Uhhhhh she doesn’t LOOK like you’re just friends, dude.”

The sisters giggled.

“Just a friend. She’s leaving town this week anyways.”

The comment made her chest feel tight, though she didn’t know why. This was always the inevitable outcome. She was always going to have to leave. They were friends, she’d made that clear. It wasn’t going to be anything more, so friends they would have to remain.

“Where’dja meet?”

“On the train.”

“Where’s she from?”

“Prison,” Zambai answered with a laugh.

“You met her in prison?” Tiff’s jaw dropped, “A girl like that? Daaaaaaamn, wonder what she did?”

“Nothing! She didn’t do anything!” Franky jumped on the defensive.

“She’s a pirate,” Kiwi leaned in and whispered, “Seventy nine million beri bounty.”

“You can buy a lot of cheeseburgers with eighty mil!” The old man laughed and then got back to work.

“Shuddup, geezer!” The cyborg lifted a hand like he was taking aim but didn’t lift the weapon’s cap.

“You know the rules! No guns in the restaurant! If you want to shoot him do it outside!” Tiff hit his wrist with her newspaper, seemingly unfazed by the threat.

Robin laughed and returned to her washing up. She fluffed her bangs and fixed the collar on the oversized purple shirt, hoping the pattern would distract from any more visible markings that had formed down her neck. It was probably just another inevitability. They were starting to accumulate. Both the love marks and the countless inevitabilities.

When she returned down the hall, the party had moved to sit at a long wooden table. Zambai sat in between the two sisters on one bench, Franky sat alone on the other with his arm resting on the seat back. Four normal sized cups and one very big one had been set on the tabletop, surrounded by a confetti of paper napkins, condiment containers, and straw wrappers.

The bell above the door rang again, signaling the entrance of an exhausted looking Paulie. The bags under his eyes were dark, but his cheeks were flushed from a night of drinking. His gaze immediately hooked onto Robin weaving between the scattered tables. The foreman lifted his goggles and rubbed the bridge of his nose, staring at her long legs and gaudy, wrinkled button up. He followed her line of trajectory to the only occupied table in the restaurant and his jaw visibly dropped in disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked the pirate, but his glare had locked onto the cyborg.

“Eating food,” she answered flatly and slid into the booth. “From what I understand, they sell it here.” Robin notched into her spot in the crook of her companion’s arm, fitting like a perfect puzzle piece. He draped himself a little more around her, not caring much about the opinions of their witness. It was much too late at night for either of them to give a damn.

“Are you fucking serious? What the hell, man!” Paulie threw his hands up.

“What? I’m just getting food with my bro’s. A guy can’t get a late night meal with friends any more? Is the mayor gonna make that illegal?” Franky laughed.

“Friends?! This is what a friend looks like to you?” The angry blond gestured at the two.

“Uh, duh,” the cyborg chuckled and slid up nearer to her body. A few unseen hands blossomed under the bench to tease his legs, making him laugh harder. “Listen, bro. You gotta get over that puritanical thinkin’, it’s modern times! A guy and a gal can just be friends.”

Robin picked up her drink and sipped from the straw with an overly serious nod.

The foreman wasn’t buying any of it, but he couldn’t formulate words in his tipsy vexation. His hands gesticulated at the more-than-obvious evidence; the shirt, the hair, the flush, the touch, the hand on the shoulder, the hand on the knee, the blooming garden of purple markings down her neck.

“Look, the prude’s at a total fuckin’ loss,” Franky whispered in his good friend’s ear. His nose brushed her temple and the buzz made her eyes flutter involuntarily. Neither of them were helping their case very much.

“You said you’d… You lied to us! You’re a fucking dick, have fun with whatever comes next. Remember, we tried to help you, ya sorry bastard!” Paulie shook. He looked like he wanted to say a few more words about Robin, too, but he dared not voice them to the devil’s face directly.

“Hey!” Tiff interrupted, “If you wanna fight, take it outside!”

“Just order your food, man, I’m havin’ a super nice night. Not in the mood for a fight. Just leave us alone,” the cyborg shrugged and drank his cola with his free hand.

That only made the drunk foreman angrier, “What, you don’t want your little girlfriend to see you get your ass handed to you?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, bro. Now I ain’t-,” Franky shifted slightly, successfully riled up. A phantom hand squeezed his thigh, trying to bring him back down to earth.

“Not here, dude,” Zambai hissed over the table.

Mozu similarly shot him a warning glance, “chill, bro. It’s not worth it.”

“Paulie, are you ordering or not?” The cashier snapped with her newspaper in hand.

“Fuck, whatever. Can I get a uh number three, funky style,” the blond fumed, turning his attention away from the party.

“Sure. Heads up, they just put in a Family order, so it’ll be about a twenty minute wait.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Paulie sounded desperate in his anger, at the breaking point. “Dammit! No, I’m out of here, I can’t fucking stomach this. Sorry, Tiffany. See ya tomorrow. Night, Pops!”

“Eh? You’re not killing Franky? I woulda given you his sandwich for free if you did,” the old man laughed from the griddle.

“He’s gonna need that free sandwich if he keeps taking those super big losses at the poker tables. How much debt didja earn for ya’self tonight, bro?” Franky heckled from his seat in the corner. The comment hit a nerve, the wound of another big gambling loss very fresh for the foreman.

“Too bad that wicked woman’s going to kill you first. I woulda liked the credit myself.”

“Me? But I don’t want his free sandwich,” Robin chuckled to the other girls at her table.

“Franky, eat shit,” the foreman growled.

“Pops, you hearin’ what this dude’s callin’ your food?”

“Fuck you, Franky,” the old man shook his head.

“Yeah, fuck you,” Paulie flipped the big, blue man off as he headed back to the front door.

“Bright and early, six a.m.! Get some beauty rest, sweetheart! You’re workin’ for me the moment the sun’s up!” The cyborg needled once more. There was no answer from the other man. The door slammed, ringing the bell dangerously.

“Six in the morning? You should get some rest too, bro,” Zambai said with concern. Franky just shrugged and took a long pull through his straw, draining a large amount of cola from the cup.

“I’ll stay up, ’s super fine.”

Kiwi stared, “big bro, what the fuck was that about?”

“Eh, nothin’. He ’n Burg tried to give a talkin’ to the other day, it doesn’t matter. I’m doin’ my own thing, they can’t tell me what to do,” the blue man shrugged. One hand found his soda again, the other wrapped a little tighter over the pirate’s shoulder.

“A talk? ‘Bout what?”

“The foreman and the mayor don’t seem to like me very much,” Robin twisted a wry smile. “It seems people tend to hold grudges after being shot, even if it’s nonfatal. Though, I would imagine a grudge after a fatal shooting would make him a vengeful spirit. I guess you can’t please everyone.”

“Is that what Iceburg came by to ask you about? He’s mad you’re… doing whatever this is?” The dark haired man waved between the two cuddled bodies.

“Eh, part of it. He wanted to talk about a few things. Lotta shit’s changing. He’s making me hire him and the rest of the foremen. Which is whatever, I guess. It’ll be good to have the hands, but I gotta change the schedule all around,” he said, absentmindedly watching the bubbles fizz in his drink.

The two men kept talking, discussing things that Robin didn’t fully comprehend. The hull needed to be framed before a dock could be built. A laser could be roughed out but would have to wait on the figurehead casing. Something about rocket propulsion. A submarine was mentioned. None of the words matched any descriptors of a ship she’d ever encountered before.

“But he’s only giving you three days? What the hell kind of bargain is that?” Zambai made a face of disgust.

“I can get it done in three days with these guys, it just isn’t super ideal.”

A big, metallic hand squeezed the woman's shoulder and dropped down to her waist, pulling her even closer. Time was running out. She gulped, taking a sip of her drink to cover over the dryness that overtook her. Robin’s eyes unfocused and she stared off towards the back wall, looking for a distraction from the deadline.

A long bulletin board caught her attention. It was plastered in lost dog fliers, help wanted signs, babysitting advertisements, and many more scraps of paper. Maybe she’d promote Zoro’s newfound services. A big poster on the far left side of the board read “EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY: NO FREE REFILLS” and displayed a big black and white picture of the same man wrapped around her in the booth. He was looking over his shoulder in the photograph, flashing a thumbs up to the picture taker. Thick red marker had been taken to the image, a circle drawn around his face and then crossed through. She wondered just how much economic damage he must have done to deserve the ban.

“Is it just you who can’t get a refill?” Robin asked, cozying up sleepily against his chest.

“Nah, I fucked up bad enough to get it banned for everyone,” Franky laughed.

“Oh my god, you gotta hear this one. Okay so it was like, what maybe two years ago?” Kiwi leaned forward into the other woman’s space, palms spread dramatically as she recounted the story. Her sister bounced the tale back and forth with her as they told of a long, hazy night after a big win at the backstreet yagara races. Four barrels had ended up tossed into the sea. The man had drunk six others on his own. Too rowdy, too loud, too aggressive when the little food shack had run out of syrup.

Robin felt warm listening to the story. These were friends, different friends to her normal crew, but welcoming and loving regardless. They’d stormed the castle for nearly identical reasons as her nakama, and the comfort of their company made her relax even further into the crook of the arm resting behind her.

“Hey! Franky! Zambai! Food’s up!” Tiff yelled, breaking the group out of its merriment. She pointed to three big cardboard boxes filled with greasy paper bags. The shorter man and the two sisters drained the rest of their beverages and slid off of the bench.

“Okay, we’ll get these to the house. You staying here?” He asked the other guy.

“Yeah, we’re gonna hang for a bit,” Franky nodded, gesturing to his companion that he wanted to slide out of the seat, too. She scooted out of the way, a bit ungracefully. His hand ran over her shoulders as he moved past, picking up the significantly smaller order and bringing it back to the table. Mozu, Kiwi, and Zambai gave one last goodbye before picking up the boxes of food and walking to the front entrance. Robin used an extra hand to hold the door open for them as they left.

Tiff stared at the hand in confused squint before shaking her head and pulling her newspaper back out. The little old man wiped his brow and returned to his napping chair.

“So are you always broke because you blow it all on the yagaras?” The dark haired woman raised her eyebrows, sitting back down. The big cyborg took the bench on the other side of the table where his friends had been sitting. He slid his drink back towards him and took another long pull through the straw. Sandwiches were divvied up and unwrapped.

“Uh, no I’m broke all the time because I pay for everyone’s food twice a week for the last four years. That’s like,” Franky counted on his fingers, “twenty five million beri that I’ve graciously donated to just this place alone since I moved back to town.”

“Oh! So these are the infamous cheeseburgers that stirred a man to rejoin society.”

“The very ones!”

“They should use that in the advertising,” she laughed, biting a fry between slender fingers. Hot oil burst in the mouth, salt lingered on the lips.

“I don’t think these guys need to advertise with the millions I give them every year. If anything, they owe me a plaque. Or a statue. Or a wing of the building in my name. OR they just make Funky Style a permanent menu addition,” he smiled and took a bite of his overly-sauced burger.

“Maybe they could put your new wanted poster up? You could autograph it before you go.”

“Ohhhhhh yeah, you’re super smart,” the cyborg wiped his mouth with one of the many scattered napkins, “Hey Tiff! There’s gonna be a surprise in tomorrow’s paper. I want it up on the board, right next to the refill ban. It’ll be hilarious.”

The waitress rolled her eyes and went back to ignoring them.

The two ate in comfortable silence for a minute. Ankles kicked and intertwined under the table. Robin felt like a teenager sneaking out of the house for a late night adventure, or whatever sort of youthful experience she’d skipped straight past.

“Is this actually eating for pleasure? There doesn’t seem to be anything pleasurable about that sandwich,” she laughed, gesturing to a spot where the man had missed cleaning up. 

“It, uh,” he swallowed his bite, “It’s gotta do with how my taste bud interface works. The back half of my tongue’s original but the front half’s reconstructed, so good food to me’s gotta hit every sensor all at once to really like, get me there. Sweet, salt, acid, heat, umami, fat, carb, protein, crunchy, creamy, all of it. This,” he looked down at the half finished mess in his hands, “does that job all simultaneously. For some reason.”

“Ahhh. So it’s Funky Style or nothing?”

“Exactly! Holy shit, did you hear? Paulie ordered it, that means it’s catching on with the GC guys, even though they fuckin’ hate me!” He laughed and took another bite.

“You’re infamous!” The woman smiled and picked up another fry, “So are you excited about your, um, laser rocket submarine?”

“Oh, totally! Super pumped, I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I was trying right now. Oh, but if the timeline’s moved up, I’m gonna need to talk to your cook about appliances like, tomorrow. Could you bring him by?”

Robin paused, “Sure, I can arrange that. Though I thought I was banned by the mayor?”

“You’re not coming by to hang out, you’re there to talk shop.”

“And you won’t get distracted?”

“Weeeeeeeell, I dunno about that,” he winked and took another sip of his drink.

There was another short silence while they chewed on sandwiches and potatoes and unsaid words.

“So… three days?” The woman repeated, nudging him with her foot under the table.

“I don’t wanna talk about-.”

“I know. But maybe we should anyway. It’s a much different timeline than you’d anticipated. How does that make you feel?” She asked.

“Like, I’m excited to get to focus on some cool shit I’ve wanted to build for a while. But it still fuckin’ sucks, y’know? I’m gonna miss- whatever. I don’t know how I feel yet.”

“Elaborate,” Robin prodded. A hand sprouted on the bench and poked at his ribs. The cyborg twisted with involuntary laughter.

“There was just a lot of stuff I wanted to do with you that I coulda had time for on the old schedule. Sucks we can’t do it now.”

“Like what? I’m actually starting to run out of ideas for new things we could do in bed after the day we had.”

The comment caught Tiff’s ear, though she tried to look like she was still reading the paper while eavesdropping.

Franky laughed and put the last portion of his sandwich down, “Oh, I don’t even mean like, in bed. Just stuff around town. There’s some cool little pockets I wish I had the time to show you. City stuff.”

“That would have been nice,” the archeologist mused, “do you have a usual list of special places you take your shore leave infatuations?”

“I have lived in this port my whole life, I’ve had my fair share of hookups with sailors, and I have never taken a single one of them to Waterburger. This is intimacy. You’re in uncharted territory, lady.”

“So I’m a special hookup for you?”

The man looked almost hurt by the comment, “You keep sayin’ crap like that, how come? I don’t think I’m alone with feeling this energy between you and me, but I keep gettin’ whiplash. This doesn’t feel like any hookup I’ve had before, and I’d be willing to bet all the cash I’ve ever given to this restaurant that you’re thinkin’ the exact same thing. So what gives, why do you keep putting yourself down like that?”

Robin looked down at her food, picking at a bit of tomato. “There’s no other way this could go,” she mumbled.

“There’s plenty of ways! Especially now that I’m banished at the end of the week. I’ll lay low in San Faldo, keeping guard from a distance until my debt to the city’s paid, and then I could set out to find you. I could train carrier pigeons, or hide notes in the floorboards of your ship while I’m building it, or-.”

“Or,” her voice hitched as she popped the big question, “you could just… come with us?”

“See, now that I can’t do,” his mouth dried and he went to take another sip of his drink, but all he got was the empty sound, sucking air and ice.

“Why not?”

“Like I said, I can’t go too far, not yet.”

The woman frowned, “What’s this debt? From gambling?”

“Nah, it’s in here,” he pointed to his chest.

"Your refrigerator?"

“I- heh- no," he laughed before his face dropped back into dead seriousness, “I owe this city a few more favors before I can move on, I’m sorry.”

She didn’t respond, silence overtaking the restaurant. Robin opened her mouth to say something, hesitated, closed it, and then started to speak again.

“I understand what you mean by whiplash. I’ve been feeling, well, confused as well. When I’d initiated things back on the mayor’s ship, I really was thinking just with my libido. I’d been standing on the deck, asking myself what I wanted now that I’d lived through everything, and the thing that cut through all the noise in my brain was, well, you. It felt… raw. Maybe I should have interrogated the desire before pursuing it, but I got so caught up in actually choosing something that I wanted for myself. Choosing someone.”

“Yeah I think I know what you mean,” the man nodded, grabbing a fry.

“It’s like you said,” she continued, “I’ve had hookups. Sex was a useful tool within the line of work I found myself connected to. But it isn’t like that with you. I have fun with you. That changed things, I think. It changed how I thought about the arrangement, it changed my feelings for you. And then you saved me yesterday, and you said you were in l-love with me. I didn’t really know what to do about that, that’s not really something anyone’s ever said before. At least not in the way you did. I guess I still don’t think of myself as someone… lovable. I just always assumed that would mean it would feel harder.”

“But it isn’t,” he whispered, eyes blown.

“Exactly, it’s so, so easy. I think that’s what’s confusing me. It’s part of what what scares me about leaving so soon. And now, knowing we’ll be taking a piece of your dream with us, I feel guilty, like I’m taking a fragment of your heart and sailing away.”

“That was always gonna happen,” Franky smiled gently.

“An inevitability, I guess. But it doesn’t feel right, even if I leave part of mine here in exchange.”

“You can take a piece. I just gotta do what I always do. I’ll fix it eventually, fill it with bits and pieces. Keep on tickin’ another day. I’ve fucked up every single organ in my body, what’s one more?”

“That’s not fair, though.”

“That’s life. Wantin’ stuff, that’s nice. But the real kicker comes when you want two mutually exclusive things at once. That’s sacrifice,” he picked his food back up, attempting to distract himself from the instinct to cry.

“This whole plan’s gone to hell,” Robin sighed.

“Nah, because your friends didn’t works as hard as they did to keep you out of prison just for you to put yourself back into one. You’ve had fun this weekend, right?”

“Y-yes. A lot of fun.”

“And you’ve been laughing a lot, and smiling?”

“More than I have in a long time.”

“Then let this just be that. Something you look back on fondly. Something that made you happy, the first thing you got to choose for yourself, even if you didn’t choose the way it concluded. A whirlwind, week long, shore leave hookup-romance-flirtation. It’s like your pulpy romance books. I can rebuild a part of my heart, but you? You can grow a whole new one. You can grow as many as you want. And that’s pretty fuckin’ super.”

Robin didn’t say anything, thinking hard. Her eyes faded in and out unsure where to look. They landed back on the bulletin board.

“No refills,” she whispered to herself, eyes glancing between the picture of the man to the real person staring intently across the table.

“No refills,” He shook his empty soda cup, ice rattling, “Enjoy whatcha got while ya got it. One for the money. And maybe I find you again out there on the big ol’ blue. Or maybe I don’t, and I get to live in infamy somewhere near the bottom of your top ten lays list.”

“My what?” She shook her head, soul returning to her body.

“A few days ago, you said I just barely cracked your top ten. Which is fine, I made my peace with it.”

“That was a few days ago! I barely knew you a few days ago!” She laughed, the soft sound like a thunderstorm washing away thick humidity.

“Sooooo… have I made at least third place yet?” He tried to ask humbly.

“You took third place a while ago!”

“What?! And you didn’t mention it?” Franky gasped, bumping his knees against hers under the table.

“I didn’t think it needed to be said!” She threw a fry at him in jest.

“Okay, okay, who’s the bastard in first? I’m so close to the top, I could taste it!”

“Mmmmm you might have some trouble with him, he just recently gained that position around five o’clock today. He’s been on a bit of a winning streak lately.”

“YES!” He stood and lifted his fists in victory. The table and chairs behind him shifted backwards with a squeak at the sudden movement.

Robin broke down in laughter at the display.

“Who’d I dethrone, is that okay to ask?”

“First place was a tie, actually. A woman I used to go dancing with when I was around twenty, on an island somewhere on the other side of Paradise. And the other was- well,” she blushed with embarrassment.

“Who?”

“An old boss of mine. He wasn’t nearly as talented in bed, but the credit alone gave him bonus points.”

“Wait, credit? Like a celebrity?”

The woman sighed, “Yes, like a celebrity.”

“Would I know him?”

“Probably. I- It wasn’t one of my better moments of judgement. But it secured a job.”

“Can I ask questions to guess?” Franky laughed.

“Sure.”

“Is he an… actor?”

“No.”

“A pirate?”

“Yes.”

“A famous captain?”

“Yes.”

“Famous on the Grand Line or in a different Blue?”

“All over the world, but yes, the Grand Line specifically.”

“Uhhhhh,” the man thought to himself, mentally running down a list of famous pirates, “is he also a fruit user?”

“Yes.”

“Oh so like, a super big deal pirate. How big is his bounty?”

“He didn’t have one when I met him.“

“A famous pirate without a bounty? Who the hell-“

“You’re thinking about it backward,” she interjected.

“A- oh my god,” his jaw dropped, “A Warlord? I dethroned a Warlord?”

The woman smiled cheekily and finished the rest of her ginger soda.

“Wait, but what made him not as good? If I’d fucked a goddam warlord I’d have him on like, a whole other list! That shit’s untouchable!”

“He was far too… arid.”

“Arid? In bed?” 

“A terrible texture. Like I said, not one of my better moments. I’m glad he was overtaken by much happier memories.”

“A Warlord,” the cyborg whistled low, “damn, now you got me feelin’ extra super about myself, okay!”

Franky took the last bite of his food, wrapping up any left over parchment paper and napkins. He wiped his face to double check that it was clear and brought his thumb up to his lips. The man licked the last of the sauce off the end of his digit, making self-satisfied eye contact with his lover across the table.

“I shouldn’t have told you that, now you’re going to get a big head about it,” the woman laughed. A hand sprouted out of the table, picking up a clean napkin and dabbing at the corner of his mouth.

“Lady, my head’s already fuckin’ huge. Where else am I supposed to keep all my super smart thoughts?”

“You’re such a mess!” She giggled.

“And here I was under the impression you liked me messy,” he winked. 

They cleaned up the rest of their trash, prodding and laughing as they did so. Extra limbs wiped down the surface with ease. Franky stood to throw everything away and then pointed his thumb down the hall.

“I gotta go whizz, I’ll be right back.”

Robin nodded and walked over to the counter ordering, “Could I put in one more order? Number two, with a fry. No drink. Funky, if you please.”

“Yeah, totally. Anything else?” Tiff asked, trying to act like she hadn’t overheard some of the best possible gossip.

“That’s all,” the archeologist said with finality, handing a bill to the girl.

Franky reappeared, visually refreshed.

“Oh, ya ordering again?”

“Bribery for our swordsman, I think he’ll like it.”

“Get up, Pops!” Tiff yelled, “It’ll be a few minutes, I gotta make sure he isn’t dead, hold on.”

“Oi, Tiff, can we wait on the roof?”

“You’re not allowed on the roof since the shit you pulled last time!”

“Pleaaaaase! I’ll be on my best behavior! Robin’ll keep me in line, super promise! I just want to show her the view.”

“No!”

“Fine! Then we’ll wait for the food… outside,” the man grinned and pulled his companion out the door and into the cold midnight air.

“Where are we going now?” Robin laughed, quickly guided down the street. They’d only ran a short distance before he pulled her down a dark alleyway. Her massive lover pressed her to the brick wall and kissed her, gentle but firm.

“We’re just havin’ fun. Come on!”

His arm reached up and latched around cold iron. He pulled with a trivial amount of strength, considering the power he had the capability of displaying. The ladder to the fire escape on the side of the building dropped. Big hands lifted the woman by her waist, urging her to climb up. She ascended first, taking one rung at a time.

Dark bangs breeched over the top of the building. The flat roof was empty, no one was in sight. She lifted herself up and scurried out of the way so that the man behind her could follow. He’d been liking the view of her climbing the ladder, but it wasn’t the view he had come for.

“Here,” he beaconed, pulling the woman toward the waist-high wall that encompassed the roof, “Lotta rooftops in this town, but some of ‘em are better than others. There’s a super clear view from the top of Waterburger’s.”

Robin pressed against the barrier, looking down at the city below. Most of the lights were off for the night, but a few still sparkled with early activity. Dock One, however, glowed like a giant light bulb, illuminating the canals that crept through the city like veins.

“Is this one of the many things you wanted to show me?” She asked and looked over her shoulder to find him in the dark.

“Well, there’s better lookout spots than the shitty roof of a fast food joint, but it’s a compromise I’m willing to make,” he laughed, sliding behind her and bringing his lips to her ear.

The unceasing roar of the big fountain far above them filled the atmosphere with white noise and a fine morning mist.

“Can you see it? Down there?” His big hand pointed down to the coast. Ribs, far in the distance, rose between the debris and the waves. The moonlight reflected off the water, silhouetting the keel and the little construction site.

“It looks like a whale fall. All the predators stripped the flesh from the bone. But one day the bone worms will strip the nutrients from marrow, and the bacteria will process the sulfur and in a millennia a coral reef will grow out of what was once a leviathan’s skeleton,” she  nodded solemnly.

“Fuck yeah,” Franky whispered. He held her tight, enamored by whatever she wanted to say about creepy whale bones.

“I’ve never had a day like today,” Robin sighed. Her body melted into him for warmth.

“Yeah? Me either. I wish there could have been more days like it.”

“Maybe that day will arrive when I find you again?”

“You seem pretty confident in that,” he frowned into the skin behind her ear.

“These things have a way of coming around. I found you once, it won’t be impossible to do again. You stand out in a crowd.”

“Heh. You guys thrive on the impossible, dontcha?”

“I’ve got to have hope in something, don’t I? The odds aren’t great but it's not like it’s super impossible.”

“Hey, don’t steal my thing!” The cyborg laughed.

“A week ago I would have thought this was impossible. Being here, happy, alive, full, satiated. If things can change that fast, then I know they can turn around one day in the future again.”

“Yeah, last week I would have never guessed I’d come thirteen times in one night while also building my greatest creation. Maybe you’re right,” he sighed with contentment, arms wrapping around her waist.

“Wait,” Robin turned her head against his cheek, “You came thirteen times?”

“Uhhhh yeah? Hang on, how many times did you?”

“Twelve.”

“Ohhhh it was that dirty fuckin’ trick you pulled with that vibrator! That was actually devilish, maybe your reputation’s catching up to you.”

She laughed, “I’m sorry for that, but it was very funny to watch. And I would have stopped if you didn’t want to. The mayor must think you’ve lost your mind.”

“Ehhhh nothing he doesn’t already think about me.”

Mechanical fingers traced the top button of her shorts as they stared out over the lights of the city. He thumbed the clasp gently, applying the slightest force. Another hand explored higher, wandering up under both layers of shirt and skimming her bare stomach. The short wall they leaned against provided coverage up to her hips. The shadows were dark in contrast to the well lit shop below.

“What are you doing?” The woman hummed into his jaw.

“I can stop, if you want,” he whispered, hands pausing gently.

“Don’t.”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Her head fell back to rest on one tall shoulder. Eyes focused vaguely on the spray of the tall fountains and the waves of blue that crashed down around her.

The hand tracing the button undid them with a quick snap, slowly inching lower. Denim dropped to her knees under the mildest pressure, undergarments long destroyed hours before. A big palm followed up her sternum, cupping a free breast under her t-shirt. He rolled one nipple into erection, then shifted to warm the other. Cold sea air tore down the slopes of the city and she shivered under the contact.

“It’s just not fair, feels wrong- getting to come more,” Franky said. His deep vocal fry, low and slow, shook through his Adam’s apple and into her cheek.

“Plenty of things in life aren’t fair,” she sighed. The lower hand teased further, glancing over dark hairs and sliding gently along soft lips.

“So why not even things when the opportunity arrises?” The cyborg kissed her temple, letting her lean all her weight on his broad chest.

“That’s what your tool does, yes?”

“My tool?” He shifted the hand on her breast and a flash of cold air breezed up her shirt.

“The one you push? It makes the shavings,” she attempted to describe, though the words grew thick and distant.

The man laughed, “Ohhhh my hand plane. Yeah, I push it down the wood and it evens everything out.”

With the comment he pulled his fingers up, middle digit drawing light circles just under her belly button. He dragged down her skin, friction mounting before delving between her legs. She gasped as he touched her, hips already shifting around how wet she’d grown.

“Mmmm, yes. I couldn’t stop watching you push it. The way your hands looked, aaaah!”

At mention of his hands, the man pushed deeper. His big middle finger filled her softness, slowing just for a second so she could acclimate.

“You liked watching me work?” His voiced growled deep.

“When you- ah- were actually working, yes. It was very sexy, that’s why I kept interrupting your progress,” she moaned, “I couldn’t control myself, I just needed to be with you.”

“You spend all day in my bed just to find me at my sexiest in the minutes when I’m not fucking you? How greedy.”

Her hips rolled under him, grinding her clit down calloused workman’s fingers. The next moan from her lips was much louder.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispered in her ear. The hand around her breasts released and he slid out from under her shirt. Mechanical fingers landed on the corner of her jaw, thumb stroking over her mouth. “You got to be as loud as you wanted all day, but we’re not alone any more. Anyone could walk by and hear, you don’t know who could accidentally see.”

“Oh, so you- ah- are and exhibitionist after all.”

“Well, I’m not the one on display right now, am I? This moment’s all about you.”

He dipped deep within her and used the moisture to write letters across her clit. Her nerves were battered after so many rounds of sex, yet she still stiffened and squirmed under the coaxing.

Moonlight cast a soft glow on her enamored face, the entire city sprawled in front of her. Oceanic eyes looked forward again and she gazed down at all of the dark windows. Each one was a theoretical eye, unknown if they actually gazed back. Shadows and short walls were barely apt secret keepers.

“Someone saw us leave the bar. They heard us,” she trembled softly.

“Yeah, exactly. Anyone could be watching. But it's three in the morning, so the odds are very slim.”

The touch sped up a bit as Robin sucked the length of his thumb, lips landing on the meat of his palm. She was so pliable and wet, muffled groans leaking out of her filled mouth regardless.

“You’ll wake the whole city up if you’re too loud, and then you’ll really have an audience,” Franky growled behind her, voice deep and a bit dangerous.

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

“See, that’s what I thought, you are greedy. I wonder how hungry we can get you? You fucked all day today and you still aren’t satisfied,” he tsked, “Greedy.”

A second finger spread her wide. Movement out of the corner of his eye confirmed his suspicions that she’d spawned arms under her shirt to keep her nipples entertained.

“Of course ‘m greedy,” Robin moaned, pulling off his digit. Her tongue still swirling around the pad of his thumb, “I’m a pirate.”

“Mmmmm that’s true, I almost forgot,” he chuckled low. Fingers held her fixed in place, knowledgeable and determined after so many practice rounds. He’d spent the day memorizing each freckle and scar and fold over her tan skin and now it was time to demonstrate all he'd learned. A final exam on the way she ticked. 

“You couldn’t even let me have one moment on my own today, you needed to make me come in the middle of a very important conversation. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The smile in his voice betrayed any real anger or embarrassment.

“I’m greedy,” the woman gasped. Fingers fucked deeper in for her honesty.

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?”

He sped up even faster, alternating with a roll of her clit.

“Please.”

“You’re a greedy fucking pirate, so what is is you want?”

She whined in desperation, “You.”

“Well you already got me, so what else do you want?”

“To come.”

“You want to come? That can be arranged,” he laughed, hand massaging her cunt with professional accuracy.

“N-no.”

“No?” He stopped, pulling away immediately. The sudden loss made her cry out, muffling the sound into his forearm.

“Keep touching me, please,” she begged.

“You sure?” He was hesitant, breaking out of the spell momentarily.

“I do, I want to come, I want it. Yes.”

“But you said-.”

“I’m greedy, Franky. What I want most is for you to come.”

The cyborg laughed, settling against her back once more. Slick fingers found their way back into her gently, slowly picking up their pace.

“You made me come plenty today, right now you’re the star,” he hummed as he found his rhythm again.

“Come with me.”

The writhing body under his hands gasped with another breeze of sea air. The mist of the fountain’s salt water pulled gently at her strength, making her knees go soft.

“This isn’t very greedy, asking me to join in. I’m making you come right now, don’t think about me. Just focus on yourself. How you feel, what you want most.”

“Come with me,” she repeated, lost to the haze of sex.

“Nothing greedy about that,” he doubled down.

“‘M very greedy, I need more time. It’s not enough,” Robin moaned straight into his ear, making the man’s occipital sensors roll.

“You’re running out of time, so enjoy it while you can. Don’t worry about me.”

“Need m-mmmmmm-more than th-three days.”

His fingers sped at the reminder of the impending end of their affair. Franky’s prominent brow grew serious and he got to work, done playing.

“So get a little greedy and tell me what you want while you still can,” he rumbled.

“For you to c-“

“I’m not comin’ right now!” He laughed, unsure as to why she was so insistent on such an answer. Fingers bullied her against the half wall.

The woman groaned, “I want more time with you.”

“Mmmm that’s more like it. Take as much time as you need.”

“You want more time?” Robin’s eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her lover leaned in close to kiss her temple. Dedicated fingers pulled song from between her lips. She shuddered. Fire around his fingers, dripping cunt only adding to the heat.

“Of course I want more time. If I could live the rest of my life like this week, I’d die the happiest man in the world. Three days won’t ever be enough.”

“You’ll regret-“

“Oh, darlin’, I’m not gonna regret any of this,” he flicked his wrist, feeling her convulse and twist.

“Then why won’t you come with me?”

“You’re about to come any second, no way I could catch up now. You come first, then we’ll see where the morning takes us.”

She gasped, eyes swimming with the bright lights of the city around her. Her line of sight fixed on the ribcage that grew from the sand. A new body, vessel already imprinted with lust and love from its inception.

“I want to be greedy,” the words flew from her mouth, cuting through the haze of pleasure. “I want to take it all. I want treasures, knowledge, I want you. I want to see the world, and I want to take you with me. Let me have this, let me be greedy, please.”

“You can have whatever you want. You’ve already taken me, you know I’m your’s,” the cyborg whispered into her ear. She trembled under him, so close to the edge.

“Then I’ll do it. I’m taking you. You’re coming with me,” she grinned.

“S-sure. Yeah, if anyone’s taking me, it’s you. Do it. Make me come with you,” he kissed her cheek, more confused than anything else.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

Robin planted her two hands on the wall and leaned forward over the edge.

“You hear that?” She yelled at the moon above the glistening metropolis. Rough fingers, raw from a morning of woodwork and an evening of sex, dragged over her clit. One last electric swirl set off the igniting fuse in the chain reaction.

“You heard what he said?!” The demon shouted again to the sleeping city, “If anyone’s taking him it’s me! I’m a greedy fucking pirate and I want him so I’m taking him with me! He's mine now! You can’t keep him! Not any more! I want him! He’s free, and he’s mine! ”

She tightened around his fingers at the final declaration. The explosion of clarity built in her core and shot through each of her limbs with an indulgent moan. Robin shuddered as the man pulled the joy through her bones. Her nerves twisted through his systems. A net. A web.

Lights in a house across the street clicked on.

“Shit,” Franky panicked. He reached forward, palm stifling her orgasmic cries. He attempted to quickly pull her half-exposed form away from the edge of the building. The shorts around her knees caught as they stepped back and both bodies lost their balance, falling back onto the dusty rooftop.

The cyborg landed on his back, audibly winding himself. The woman landed on top of him, still riding the tides of pleasure against his fingers. After a minute, the light turned off and the filament in her nerves cooled. Everything was still again.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“The hell was that?!” He chuckled.

“Pure, unadulterated greed,” Robin joined in the joy as she pulled her shorts back up. She rolled onto her stomach to kiss him. Giggles passed from lips to lips, witnessed only by the moon and the stars.

Franky ran a hand through her hair, “So where are you taking me?”

“Hm?”

“You were super insistent on taking me somewhere and making me come. Are we going back to the tent again? You can be loud there, if that’s what you want.”

“What? Oh, no. I’m taking you with me. When we leave on Friday. You just agreed to it.”

“I-I- I — I - I- WHAT?!” The man stammered, going a bit pale under the moonlight.

“I said that I was taking you and you were coming with me, and you said ‘sure,’” she stated plainly, extra hands keeping him pinned to the roof.

“I- I didn’t…”

“Yes you did. Just now,” Robin smirked victoriously.

“I-.”

A door slammed below them.

“FRANKY I TOLD YOU GET OFF THE FUCKING ROOF. AND COME PICK UP YOUR GODDAM ORDER!” Tiff yelled into the cold space of night from the ground floor.

The cyborg was still shell shocked, staring with wide eyes up at the moon. The archeologist climbed off of his steel chest and ran to the short wall. A long chain of hands extended down the side of the building. The final fist grasped the brown paper sack in the girl’s very confused hands.

“Thank you, Tiff!” Robin waved.

“Is he up there?!” The waitress shouted back up, “He needs to get down before he breaks something! I’m coming up!”

“Your friend is coming up the fire escape,” the dark haired woman summarized to the body still supine, dusted in dew from the fountain.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” he drooled before shaking his head, waking his nerves back up, “Fuck. Okay. That’s super bad. Yeah. We’ll talk about this later, we gotta get outta here. I’m dropping you off at your place, yeah?” He rolled onto his knees, took a steadying breath, and then hopped to his feet.

“Yes please. Our swordsman will want his three a.m. snack. And you’ve got three hours before your first day of real work.”

“What the fuck did I just agree to?” The cyborg mumbled under his breath. The fire escape ladder raddled with the sound of someone ascending. He grabbed his lover’s free hand, smiling despite the whirlwind of feelings in his heart. “We gotta run, this way!”

Franky pulled her along rooftop after rooftop, sprinting over the highest points of the city’s complex maze. Shingles dislodged under hurried feet. The pair ran until their lungs ached, not looking back at the yelling fast food cashier cursing them. Well, mostly cursing him.

-

The door to the Galley-La temporary quarters creaked open very, very slowly. An eye on the wall confirmed that the bodies piled on top of each other in the middle of the floor were fully asleep. Robin stepped in from the night, bringing a cold breeze with her.

Zoro sat against the wall, following her with half open, sleepy eyes. He appeared unhappy that she’d been gone for over twelve hours without forewarning the others’.

She waved silently and tossed him the oil-stained paper bag. The swordsman frowned and unrolled the top of the bag, but he immediately brightened when he saw the mess of sauce, meat and potatoes that lay inside. The journey back had been a bit bumpy, but the archeologist figured he wouldn’t mind.

He lifted the burger out of the bag. That was the first mistake she hadn’t considered.

A head shot up from the mess of sleeping limbs.

“Zoro’s got meat,” a very sleepy Luffy sniffed deep, taking in the smell of beef and grease.

“Hell yeah he does. Sweetheart bring that steak closer, I’ll cook it up rare,” Sanji muttered, still clearly dreaming.

They both twitched and fell back on the floor, dead asleep.

The green haired man took a small bite of the sandwich, grinned at the taste, and took a much bigger mouthful.

“Thanks,” he mouthed silently.

Robin nodded back with a soft grin.

“Oh,” Zoro mouthed with a wave to catch her attention before she turned away. She cocked her head, asking a silent question. He pointed to the bold, purple shirt she still wore.

“Damn,” she barely whispered, scrambling to pull the garment off before it was noticed by anyone else. Mistake number two. The man just snickered quietly at her and took another bite of food.

The ruse was growing messy. The crew had their suspicions, the whole Family knew, and the mayor saw right through them. Rumors would be flying on the wind by the morning, along with the new bounty posters. Maybe the time had arrived to go all the way and get a little funky with it.

Chapter Text

Franky ran. Franky kept running. He left Dock One behind him and let his legs cary him as far away as he could get in any opposite direction. The noise in his brain didn’t grant him the space for thoughts to direct his steps. He just needed to keep moving. Down stairs, over retaining walls, through dark alleys and under bridges. Anywhere, he just needed to go anywhere.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to stay.

Or maybe he didn’t.

He wasn’t sure.

But the choice had been made for him. And that changed how he felt.

She tricked him. She’d tricked with her pants down. And it was a dirty fucking trick at that.

He couldn’t be held to something he’d been tricked into saying, agreement made under duress. It had just been the kayfabe of dirty talk. He couldn’t actually be expected to be held to a contract that he hadn’t understood when he was signed.

Then again, she was the devil.

Come with me. I’m taking you.

Sure.

Nico Robin wasn’t going to let him go. She wasn’t ever going to let him go. Her grip was too tight, a million fingers entwined through his brain matter. That woman had him by the fucking balls.

How long had she been planning this con? He hadn’t even felt the hooks penetrate. Or maybe he had but he hadn’t cared how it hurt until it was too late. Like a fish that only had eyes for the worm. She’d found his blind spots- gaps in metal plating and dull patches between touch sensors. When had it started? She must have been scoping him out from the start. That’s what all those hands did. Not touching him for his pleasure, but prodding at him for her own.

She tricked him.

He was mad. He should have been mad, at least. He felt mad. Yeah, there was anger. But for the life of him he couldn’t point it anywhere but at himself. Angry for getting duped. Angry that he let himself get in this deep. Angry that he had work in two hours. Angry that he felt a thread of hope.

He wouldn’t have to make the hard choice if he let her make it for him.

Of course he wanted to go. Of course he wanted to keep the party going forever.

But that would just be greedy.

He had responsibilities. He had people to take care of. He had work in two hours.

Waves splashed at his ankles, the freezing early morning tide finally shocking him out of his mind. The city was well behind him. Franky had run as far as he could get. The island was just too small. Always too small. A fish can only grow as big as the tank it’s been put in, and the glass walls were starting to close in.

The sea pulled at his feet like a hundred outstretched arms. Fingers grappled at his ankle and up the back of his calf. It wanted to take him, riptide straining to pull him past the horizon. She was taking him whether he liked it or not.

He screamed.

He yelled and he yelled and he tasted the salt from the spray and the salt from his tears and he yelled some more.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” A startled voice behind him shrieked back, terrified.

The cyborg whipped around.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The big man yelled again, now more scared than upset. He instinctively took aim at the pile of craggy rocks that hid the screamer. The moon behind the clouds diffused a soft light, just barely illuminating the trembling figure equally taking aim over the top of a boulder.

“Shit, bro, don’t scare me like that!” Franky said, capping his weapons and holding his hands above his head in surrender.

“Scare you?!” Usopp stood up, similarly lowering his slingshot, “You’re the one that came running by yelling. What the hell! It’s the middle of the night, I’m trying to sleep here!” 

“You’re sleeping? Here?”

“Uh, yeah! Where else would I be sleeping?”

“Literally anywhere else, dude!”

The boy hesitated, a bit disoriented by being woken up so suddenly. His defensive position behind the rock relaxed and he collapsed against the cold stone.

“I got no where better to go,” he shrugged, eyes fixing blankly at the setting moon.

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” Franky slowly splashed through the water back onto dry sand, taking a seat on an adjacent boulder.

“What do you mean? You live here, you’ve got plenty of places you can go,” Usopp said as he pushed himself up and scrambled to on top of his hiding spot.

“Meh, not for long.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

There was a lingering quiet. Waves licked lazily under the cold moonlight.

“I dunno, bro. Just feeling confused. But I don’t know if I got the words just yet.”

“Sounds like you definitely should talk it out, then. You know, back on my home island, I used to be the best therapist in town! A young prodigy! They called me the greatest shrink in leagues, people used to sail all over to tell me their problems!” The boy grinned.

The cyborg took a long exhale, unsure where to start, “Uh. Yeah fine, sure. Okay. Uhhhhh so someone told me something. And now I’m confused.”

“That didn’t sound like confused screaming.”

“Okay, so I’m confused. And a little mad.”

Usopp raised his eyebrows, “So who are you mad at?”

“No one! I’m not mad at her, I can’t be mad at her. But… I still feel angry?”

“Her?” Raised eyebrows lifted even higher.

“Uhhhhhh, damn, uhhhh someone. A person. Could be anyone,” Franky shuffled, trying to keep his words vague.

“I can’t be a master therapist you if you don’t start giving some specifics,” the boy prodded.

“I don’t need to talk about this, I can figure out what to do fine on my own. I’m fine. I’m fuckin’ super, it’s fine.”

He choked on the wad that grew in the back of his throat. Big hands pushed against the stone and he tried to stand but his thighs trembled with exhaustion from the run, on top of a long night of other activities. The raw joint at his knee where scar tissue met prosthesis screamed and he immediately sat back down.

“You don’t sound like it, c’mon man! Just spit it out!” Usopp kept poking with a smirk.

The cyborg shook his head, “I gotta keep it secret, sorry bro. There’s already too much gossip goin’ around, and this would… I just can’t.”

“…So is this about your crush on Robin?” The boy’s smirk became a wry smile.

“I- My- Who the hell is spreading that rumor?!”

“Well, I heard it from Sanji, and he said he heard from your square friends.”

“My… oh my god, no,” Franky hung his head, palm covering both his eyes, “I can’t believe they did that! Fuck, they promised they wouldn’t tell him!”

“Sooooooo there is something to tell?”

“I- ARGH no!” The man blushed, “No, there’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want to talk about it!”

“Listen, man, I get it. She’s really pretty. And she’s nice. Kinda creepy sometimes, but she doesn’t mean it! I don’t think…”

“The creepy stuff’s cool! And she’s so fucking funny, bro.”

Usopp grinned, “Uh huh! What else?”

“N-nothing else!” Franky grew defensive again, “I don’t have a crush on her! ’S not a crush…”
“But you do like her?”

“What am I, fourteen?! She’s a nice lady I met on the way to prison, we had a good bonding adventure together. And she’s beautiful but any guy with eyes will tell you that! But that doesn’t mean I have a crush on her, okay?! I’m a grown ass man.”

“Uhhhhhh huuuuuh, sure” the boy teased, “So what’d she do to make you scream like that?”

The man’s eyes bulged, mind immediately pulling up a quick slide show off all the things she’d done to make him scream the day before. He wasn’t about to tell the teen about that.

“She just said something that made me feel confused, tha’s all. And now I don’t know what to do,” Franky buried his feet deep in the freezing sand.

“Did you ask her out? Did she say no? It’s okay, it happens,” Usopp put his hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“What? Uh, no, not exactly. Wait, why are you assuming she’d say no?”

“I dunno, she just doesn’t seem like the dating type!”

“Yeah, she’s not. But I’m not really either so it kinda evens out.”

“Okay, so then why are you so upset? If you don’t wanna date her then it shouldn’t matter. Unless that’s why you’re feeling confused?” The sniper looked like he was the confused one.

The big, blue man sighed, “You ever been in love, bro?”

“Love?! You love her?”

“I dunno. Maybe that’s what I’m confused about. I’m feelin’ crap I’ve never felt before.”

Usopp squinted his eyes, “You love her but you don’t want to date her and you have feelings you’ve never felt but you don’t have a crush…”

“Yeah, exactly! Plus I don’t have time to take her out! What would we even do on a date?” The cyborg huffed.

“It doesn’t have to be anything big! Anything can be a date! Just talking about things, enjoying each other’s company. Dates aren’t these big showy declarations, they’re any time you get to spend together. Have you even hung out with her alone yet?”

“Yeah, a bit,” he lied. A lot. They’d been alone together a lot, “But when we hang out it doesn’t feel like I’m trying to woo her or she’s trying to impress me. Like we don’t ask each other dumbass questions or any of that shit. We just, y’know, hang out. We have fun.”

“You don’t try and woo her?” The boy laughed incredulously.

“Weeeeeell, okay, maybe a little bit. Like I want her to think I’m super cool but like, because I’m super cool, not because I’m acting. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“You ever been on a date?” Franky asked, pulling a bottle out of the fridge. He didn’t look at the kid but he did extend the drink in silent offer. Usopp thought about it for a moment before nodding. The cyborg popped the cap off with a hidden bottle opener notch between armor plates, handed the cola over, and opened a second for himself.

“Have I ever been on a date- ha! Are you kidding? I’m the most eligible bachelor on my home island! I’ve had ladies line up for miles to ask me out! My schedule is filled for the next sixth months with all the dates I’ve got queued up!” The sniper posed with one hand on his hand on his waist and the other with the bottle outstretched.

“A therapist and a dating expert? I gotta start paying for your advice,” Franky laughed, tapping the necks of the two bottles.

“But all my favorite dates were always ones that happened kinda spontaneously,” Usopp grew just a bit more serious, dropping his stance and taking a sip of his drink, “Like when I’d be in the area so I’d just drop by her house to say hi. Or- oh, my favorite was if she got to walk around the gardens and Kaya would show me her favorite flowers when they were in bloom-“

“Kaya?”

“Yeah, that’s her name.”

“Sounds cute. And if she’s got gardens she must be a super swanky gal.”

“Yeah, her family was the richest in town. M-Merry was hers. And now…” the boy faded away.

The sound of soft waves once again overtook the conversation.

“So what’s she doing now?” The shipwright broke the silence first, “Waiting for you to make it all the way around the world? Watchin’ that sunset for the day her proud little sniper guy comes home? ”

Usopp shook his head, “She’s in medical school. Got a whole life she wants to live. She’s going to be someone different than how I remember her when I go back. If I ever make it back. And maybe I change too and she sees me like a brave warrior returning home. But maybe I’ll always just be the boy outside her window telling silly tall tales when she was sick. I don’t know. No way to know.”

“Damn.”

The boy shrugged, “I know that feeling though. That waiting feeling? It’s how I felt waiting for my dad. Heh, I used to make it everyone’s problem too. Like that sliver of possibility; today could be the day. Any day could. And then a hundred days pass. And then ten years.”

“I don’t wanna get stuck waiting for her to come back. That would be… the fuckin’ worst,” Franky frowned.

“My mom did it too for a long time. A looooong time. And I get why she stayed. But at the same time, sometimes I think about how different I would be if she’d gone with them somehow. If I was born into a strong crew, if I could have learned about ships when I learned my alphabet and numbers. Maybe things could have ended up different for her, too,” Usopp withdrew into himself.

The man pat him on the shoulder “Nahhh, ‘cuz y’know what? It’s not so different on the other side.”

“Whadduya mean?”

“My mom made the opposite choice. She went, she joined my dad’s crew. There were still problems. Different problems. The sea’s a super bad place to start a family. And there’s a reason they don’t teach you letters and rigging knots at the same time,” the cyborg chuckled.

“You were born on the sea?”

“Yup.”

“I think that’s supposed to be a good omen.”

“Not for me it wasn’t,” Franky frowned and took another sip.

“So howdja end up stuck on dry land?”

“Uhhhh it’s kinda complicated. No it isn’t. They ditched me once I got to be too much.”

The boy whistled and shook his head, “now why the hell would they do that?”

“Eh, I dunno. I’ve always been me, super since the day I popped out. And it was fine when I was a little shrimp, but once I got a bit older and my brain started catchin’ up and my body started… Whatever. It’s not important. They couldn’t handle it. I don’t think my pops ever really ‘got’ the frequency I run at. Can’t totally blame him, but I can blame him a little.”

“Frequency? Like your hertz?” Usopp joked to lighten the mood. The big cyborg’s mind returned to that night in the bar when Robin had said something similar. And then she’d--

Franky blushed a little at the memory, before shaking himself back into the therapy session, “Nah like… my vibe.”

“And what about your mom?”

“I think she’d just always wanted a little girl. And she got resentful the moment it was clear that wasn’t in the cards.”

“She resented you from the moment you were born? Really? That’s messed up.”

“Something like that. It took a long time to find people at my same, uh, frequency. Ya gotta know where to look, y’know? And it took dying and coming back better to really find that groove. And yeah, there’s people in this city that don’t get me and never will. There’s a helluva lotta people like that, actually. But the ones that do get me, fuck, I never wanna let ‘em go. That’s why I’m mad. Because it might be time to let go. Or time to grab on harder but piss a lot of people off in the process. Not sure which way it’s goin’ just yet,” the cyborg sniffled, willing the ache in his throat to subside. It only burned harder.

The sniper laughed through the tension, throwing his hand on the other guy’s shoulder with a slap. “I like to think that the folks back in my village probably threw a big party the day I left. I hope they did! And I hope my boys did something special too.”

“You also got bros back home?”

“Yeah, the Usopp Pirates are a fearsome group of bloodthirsty sailors, eight thousand strong! They cheered me on as I left and they fight to protect the village to this day! And when I return, I’ll show them all what a real warrior looks like!”

“That’s really cool, bro. Do you regret leaving ‘em behind?”

“Sometimes. Well, I didn’t really until last week. Now I do. But I know I would have felt even more regret every day if I’d stayed,” Usopp sighed, his mind and heart far to the East.

“I’m worried about that, yeah. I think I’m gonna regret it forever if I stay. And I already got too many fucking regrets to begin with. I don’t know if I can cary any more,” the man frowned down at his bottle. His eyes fixed on the sand, unable to look at the boy. He could barely attempt eye contact for fear of catching sight of the long gash down the kid’s forehead, the deep bruises on dark arms, the bandaged wrists or the split lip.

“Did-“ the boy hesitated, cocktail of nervousness and jealousy, “did Luffy talk to you?”

Franky shook his head, “Nah, not yet. But I know it’s coming. I overheard him tell Robin. And then she said I’m goin’, in more or less words.”

“So she asked you? But she can’t-“

“Ask is a strong word. She told me. Tricked me into saying yes. Doesn’t seem like I have a lot of choice in the matter. I think the captain just already assumed I was leavin’ with everyone.”

Usopp laughed a sad, wet chuckle, “you’re lucky.”

“All you gotta do is talk to him, bro.”

“I got all the words in my head,” the boy tapped on the side of his glass anxiously, “I keep running through them over and over again. But every time I try and get them out, they disappear. So I tell myself I’ll try again tomorrow. And tomorrow arrives, but the words don’t. Never the right time.”

“I don’t think there will ever be a right time. Ya just gotta do the damn thing even when it’s scary. The perfect moment doesn’t exist,” Franky shrugged, debating if he should listen to his own advice.

“He won’t forgive me.”

“That’s the funny part of forgiveness. It’s always a surprise. All you gotta do is say you’re sorry. And forgiveness is easier when you forgive other people first. Here, wanna practice?”

“What? Practice how?” The sniper looked puzzled as he asked.

The bigger man sighed, chugged the last of his bottle, and finally looked the boy in the eye. He looked so frail and cold, shivering under the fading moonlight. Morning fog was starting to roll in off the sea, condensation forming everywhere like the chilled glass bottles they both held.

“Longnose, I’m super sorry for hittin’ you. And kicking you. And telling my guys to hurt you, too. I didn’t know enough about the situation with the info I had, I was trying to keep this place safe from pirates. But you’re a really cool bro, and you’re brave for standing up for your friends. That’s super admirable. They clearly care a lot about you. I know I said we were practicin’ but you don’t actually gotta forgive me now, or any time soon. But I am sorry for hurting you.”

“Psh, what? You’re still on about that? That’s way in the past!” Usopp laughed, though some of the fear had left his hunched shoulders, “I get it, me and the great Usopp Pirate Fleet would have done the same thing if the situation was reversed! But, uh, thanks. That’s nice to hear. And I do, y’know. Not just practice, I forgive you. You don’t have to hold onto that regret forever. You said your peace, I said mine, and now we move on.”

Franky took a long, winded exhale. Some of the carbonation in his system got caught in his throat and he hiccuped loud.

“Shit, actually yeah, that does feel super good!”

“Wait, you were offering me advice on how to apologize without taking it yourself?! What the hell, man!”

They both laughed, voices lightening the dark night sky. The sun would be coming up soon, but not quite yet.

“So how’s this practice supposed to help me with Luffy?”

“Uhhhh,” the man paused, trying to remember the point he was wanting to make, “Oh yeah! So like, the way you feel right now about me? There’s like, literally no way that kid could possibly dwell on a grudge more than that. Y’know what I’m trying to say? He’ll forgive you. You just gotta say the words.”

“Heh. You’re right. It’s probably just gonna bounce right off him.”

The cyborg hiccuped again, louder. They both broke down into hysterics.

“Nothin’ to be scared of! You got this!” Franky laughed.

“Plus, I got three weeks to really perfect what I wanna say.”

“Oh, uh, about that. The timeline’s changed. It’s now three days.”

Usopp balked, “Three days?! That’s like, no time at all! You’re really gonna finish the ship in just three days?!” 

“That’s the plan at least. So figure out how you wanna say it, and quick. Because they set sail Friday morning.”

“Yeah, right back atcha, buddy. You’ve got three days to figure out what you’re gonna do,” the sniper gave a knowing smirk, “And whatever she said, or however she said it, you could probably practice some forgiveness too.”

“Hey! I thought I was the one giving the forgiveness advice, brother!”

“Yeah but I’m your therapist!”

“Shit, you got me there.”

They descended into chuckles again, now engulfed by sweeping sea fog.

“Oh, damn!” Franky remembered with a jolt, “I forgot I actually had somethin’ to ask you. I’m workin’ on the layout of the decks and everything, and I gotta know if you’re actually planning on comin’ or not. For like, bed counts and other stuff. There’s some free space in the hold for a few extra rooms, I figured you might like a space of your own. But if you’re actually not planning on rejoin I’ll probably put the offer out to someone else. If you want. Just lemme know.”

“A- a room of my own? Like a bedroom?”

“Nah, bro, like a workshop. Or a studio. Or an explosive manufacturing facility. Literally whatever you want it to be. I guess if you wanted you could turn it into a bedroom…”

“Anything I wanted?”

“Yeah! Anything! Just lemme know, bro. You got it.”

The boy exhaled through puffed cheeks and picked up a little rock from the sand. He loaded it into his slingshot and sent the projectile out over the calm sea. It skipped along the surface of the water a dozen times, disappearing into the mist before it could drop into the ocean.

“Somewhere out there, there’s going to be a room just for me, huh? Thanks. It means a lot that you’d think of me. Yeah, then I’ll definitely talk to him by Friday.”

“You got a few other super cool surprises in the works, too. The room’s just the one I had to confirm.”

“Wow! Yeah, okay! Is everyone getting surprises or is this just a part of the forgiveness thing?” Usopp asked, grinning wide.

“Buncha stuff for everyone. Lotta cool surprises. Can’t give everything away! You can wait three days to see it in person.”

“Soooooo can you tell me what surprise you’re making for Robin?” The boy wiggled his eyebrows.

Franky laughed with a blush and kicked the sand, “Yeah, sure. I’ve got two big ones. Gave her one already, there’s a uh, special wood that means a lot to her, and I’m making the ship out of it. So she knows that part.”

“You uh, showed her your special wood?” Usopp grimaced, a bit joking and a bit grossed out.

Oh, he had no idea.

“Yeah, bro, and she really liked it.”

The sniper blanched, sticking his tongue out like he’d tasted something terrible.

“Gross, man! Don’t joke like that!”

He wasn’t joking, but the boy didn’t need to know such truths.

“If the wood thing is her first gift, what’s the second?”

The cyborg smiled wide, a dumb grin only summonable by a man in love, “I’m building her a library, bro.”

“Oh, she’s gonna love that.”

“I know, right?!” Franky exclaimed, punctuating joy with another hiccup, “But promise you won’t say anything! Don’t spoil it, okay? Bro code. I wanna see the look on her face, she’s so hard to keep secrets from but I think I’ve been successful so far. Fingers crossed.”

Usopp shook his head, “Nothing gets past her, it’s kinda scary. Especially with all those eyes. It felt like there was never any true privacy on the Merry.”

“And I can never find them, either. She’s too damn smart!”

“You’ll only see them when she wants you to see them. She’s totally sneaky.”

“Scares the shit outta me sometimes,” the man shook his head. Scared him. Turned him on. A bit of both. More one than the other, actually.

The boy thought for a moment and then asked, “So, if you go with them, what do you do about the crush?”

“Shit, I wasn’t really thinking that far ahead. Guess I just deal with it. Hangin’ out in the city’s one thing, but living on a ship all together… I’d hate to cause a problem. Don’t want any tension. Maybe that’s a good reason to not go.”

Or, he thought, he could make it a different kind of problem. Franky added soundproof insulation foam to his list next to tile floors and bathroom locks. This list was getting out of control for a guy who swore he was staying.

“Maybe just talk to her before you do. Let her know how you really feel. Isn’t that like, how adults are supposed to communicate? And if she doesn’t like you back, that’s okay. Because at least then you’ll know and you can put it behind you. And if she does like you back,” the boy said with a wiggle of his eyebrows, “then you figure it out from there. You could take it slow, get used to living together first. And then build up that special connection.”

Take it slow. Build up the connection. Put it behind him. None of the advice was particularly useful to the truth of the situation, but it still got his brain gears turning.

To live with her, though? He hadn’t fully considered the reality of the implications. To wake up and see her first thing every morning, bed head and a mug of coffee? To kiss her goodnight under the caress of the sea and the sparkling night sky? To find her curled up in her library, the one he’d made with his own hands just for her? The daydream was almost tempting enough to change his mind right there on the spot. Almost. He hiccuped again.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll talk to her. Thanks, bro. I do feel better. You were right, I just needed to get it off my chest. You’re a super good therapist.”

“You give pretty good advice yourself, man!” Usopp snickered, though his shakes of laughter quickly turned to shakes from the cold. Fog now densely surrounded the two, horizon fully hidden from view.

“Are you sure you wanna stay out here in the cold, brother? If you need a place to crash I got like, a little tent thing back at the construction yard,” Franky offered, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. He regretted the offer as soon as he made it. The cyborg paused and squinted, thinking about how realistic it would be to clean the tent up for someone else to simply sleep in. It’d be fine. Probably.

“Nah, I’m alright. I got some blankets that Sanji brought with dinner the other night,” the sniper shook his head.

“If you say so, bro,” he shrugged but internally became awash with relief. Bullet dodged.

“Thanks for the offer, though.”

“No problem. I’m glad you’ve got your friends looking out for you, bro. They really love you.”

“Yeah, they’ve all got a lot of love to give.”

The sound of the quiet waves met the muffling silence of the fog, like whispers behind soundproofed insulation foam. The mist grew ever so slightly brighter, hinting towards a sunrise that could not be seen, well past the horizon.

“I gotta go, I think. Got work soon. And this ship’s not gonna build itself!” Franky said eventually, putting his hands on his knees and attempting once more to stand. His thighs burned but he made it upright successfully.

“Good talk, we should have therapy more often!” Usopp crinkled his nose.

“Super good idea. Can you pencil me in for next week? Same time same place?”

“We better not be on this beach at four a.m. next week!”

“Shit that’s the question, ain’t it, lil bro? Where the hell do we go now?”

“Well, I know where I want to be. And I think I know where you want to be, too. Think this through, take this offer seriously. The crew would be lucky to have you.”

“Yeah, dude. You too.”

They grinned at each other through chittering teeth.

“Alright, bro. I’m outta here. Try and get some rest. If you’re super bored later, you can swing by the site and I’ll put you to work.”

“Get some rest?! You just gave me sugar and caffeine at four o’clock in the morning!”

Franky laughed, “Ha! I did do that, yeah. Well, have fun with the early morning jitters then! Later!” The cyborg waved and disappeared into the grey haze of the coast. He felt lighter with each step he took, barely remembering why he came to scream at the sea in the first place.

“Come ooooooooon! Hurry up, you guys!” Luffy shouted back to his friends as he bounced down the cobblestone stairs.

Sanji dropped down every other step, light on his feet. Robin took the staircase at a much slower pace than her two companions, watching them softly as they sped ahead. The captain was getting too far away. He ducked down an alleyway with unearned directional confidence.

“It’s that way, captain,” the woman called ahead and pointed down the opposite path.

“Oh! Cool, thanks!”

“Wait, how do you know how to get there?” The cook looked over his shoulder back at her.

“I noted the construction site’s location from afar on my errands yesterday. We should be able to see it in just a moment,” she lied.

“How’d those errands go? You were gone all day,” the young man frowned, pulling his pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Oh, I had a brilliant time. Did I show you the books I got? I couldn’t put them down, they were truly wonderful reads. Though I do apologize for getting distracted. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten until I’d finished the second novel!” Robin chuckled.

“Yeah, I understand, I guess. I’m just worried about you skipping dinner.”

“Oh, no need to fret over me, dear cook. I got food in the city.”

“What sort of food? Something elegant, undoubtedly?”

The archeologist laughed, “No, just something quick and cheap. But it did satisfy a craving.”

“Fast food?! You ate fast food for dinner?” The chef looked appalled.

“Oooooooooo wait are we picking food up? The thing you got Zoro smelled sooooo good!” Luffy drooled, bounding back toward his friends.

“We’ll have lunch after this meeting! You just ate breakfast!” Sanji kicked him.

The party turned a corner, revealing the outer street of the city that looked over the scrap island. The captain lit up at the vision of the bustling construction site far away near the shore. In just a few short hours much of the hull had been encased and the top deck was beginning to take shape. Two big, empty masts reached high in the sky. The rib cage had begun to breathe.

“Whooooooa! Let’s go!” The captain vibrated unable to control his excitement. He wrapped one arm around each of his friends and took a worrying step back.

“Luffy what are you-“ the cook started to say.

“No, no, no, no, no-!“ Robin squeezed her eyes shut.

It was too late. He launched them over the wall and towards the little sparkling dream in the distance.

Iceburg looked up from his work, sour expression all over his face as he drove the last nail into the floor planks.

“Heeeeeeeey! Popsicles! We’re here to look at the boat!” The boy in the straw hat screamed from a far distance away. The little trio stumbled through the paths of salvage and debris, though the captain’s two companions looked quite worse for wear.

“I thought I made it clear, I didn’t want to see her here!” The mayor scowled over at his fellow apprentice, hard at work on the staircase up the the second floor.

“Whoa I dunno what you’re talking about, bro!” Franky paused his hammering to give a shit eating grin.

“Don’t play stupid with me!”

“I would never!”

“Then what is Nico Robin doing walking up right now?” Iceburg hissed.

The cyborg just shrugged with faux nonchalance, though the taps of his mallet quickened and pinged with excitement.

“Ay! I was told you needed to talk appliances!” Sanji shouted up, grabbing the bottom rung of the little temporary ladder onto the deck. Luffy beat him to the punch, zipping his way up the side of the unfinished boat in less than a second.

The head of the Galley-La Company sighed and put his hammer down. The cook wasn’t technically wrong, they did need to make appliance choices by the end of the day.

“What’s wrong, Popsicles?” The young boy got in his face, clocking the deep frown.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Iceberg answered, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a calming breath.

Sanji and Robin stepped onto the deck a moment later, slightly awed by the unfinished handiwork.

“Look at how cool it is!” Luffy exclaimed, spinning on the deck. He stumbled over a loose tool and wobbled momentarily over an open hole in the boards.

“Oi! Watch your step, ya gotta remember this is a construction zone. It gets super dangerous, don’t want any of ya gettin’ hurt!” Franky called over from where he knelt on the mostly finished stairway.

“Should we be wearing hard hats? I’d hate for something to fall on one of us and cause permanent and irreparable brain damage,” Robin noted. Three men looked at her with confusion and fear.

The cyborg laughed. “Uhhh let’s head inside before the brains get damaged, then!” He tried his best to keep his face normal as he pointed the group to the second story. Iceburg took the lead, muttering something about his own irreparable brain damage, followed closely by a starstruck Luffy and a giddy Sanji.

The last two lingered just as whisper of a step behind the others.

“Hey,” Franky smiled with deep tenderness.

“Hello,” the archeologist greeted softly. Her big, blue eyes looked him once over, noting his particularly assiduous sheen. “I’m glad to see you’re actually working today,” she laughed.

“Well, I had a full morning without distraction.”

“Sorry to end your streak now,” Robin smiled, turning to follow her companions. A hand sprouted on the back of the man’s knees and palmed his backside without notice from the group. He took a shaky breath to settle himself before following behind her.

Iceburg walked through the empty door frame, pointing at the roughed out galley space. “Is this an acceptable size for your crews needs?” He asked the blond man.

Sanji slid between the island bar and the framed back cabinets. His hands twitched just looking at all the planned counter space.

“Hey!” Luffy exclaimed, “I thought we were looking at the kitchen! This isn’t a kitchen it’s just a room!”

“They haven’t built the kitchen yet, dumbass! That’s why they wanted to talk to me!” The cook snapped out of his culinary daydreaming.

The mayor threw two catalogues down on the rough plywood, opening to a back section and pointing to the list of sinks.

“Alright, here’s what we can offer. Take a look through that. We need a choice on sink, oven, fridge, and then whatever else that catches your eye,” he turned his full attention to the young man.

“And ignore those prices, the tab’s already covered,” said the second blue man, leaning on the counter top to try and take a load off of his aching knees.

“Hmmmm… well I like the look of these faucets. A pull out nozzle would be handy for the number of dishes I have most nights. What are your options for basins? Can I mix my hardware choices?”

“I’d recommend the double porcelain basin with the frequency you’ll be using it,” the business man suggested.

“Nahhhh don’t listen to him, you’re gonna want the stainless steel with the wash rack and catch attachments!” Franky argued.

“What are they talking about?” Luffy whispered to Robin.

She shrugged and guided him to lap around the room with her, looking with curiosity at all the little details already starting to take shape. The two people poked their heads into the back two rooms. One was windowless and dark, lined with a few half-finished shelves. The other one was entirely blank, awaiting its designated purpose.

“Look!” The captain whispered loud, gesturing to the ladder in the middle of the room. His excitement was shared and they snuck to the rungs. Nothing extended upward, open air flooding the hole with a sweet sea breeze. The two climbed down instead.

Luffy’s flip flops hit the hold’s floorboards with a loud slap. “Cooooooooool!” He exclaimed, sprinting down the roughed out hallway toward the big, open, circular room in the center of the hull. Exposed wiring and gears poked all around the perimeter of the space. “What’s this do?” The boy asked Robin.

“I don’t know!” She laughed, poking her head into the two other rooms. One was already partitioned off, though the back side of the walls still had visible insulation. Someone had moved a little table, a big leather couch, and many stacks of blueprints into the space. The temporary nature made the workshop look messy and overwhelming.

Pinging nails were heard coming from the second, unfinished workshop. Paulie stood in the frame, trying his best to stay focused on his work.

“Why are you two down here? It’s off limits,” He grumbled behind a grit cigar.

“The captain wanted to take a look around his ship,” the woman smiled with fake sweetness.

“At least you were smart enough to wear real pants and appropriate shoes to a work site this time. Unlike those bawdy clothes last night. How were you not cold?”

A hand gripped his jacket collar and pulled him through the empty gap in the frame. Robin leaned in close and glared, “I don’t know if anyone’s ever mentioned this to you, so I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s not polite to make such comments about a woman. In the future, you’d better leave your criticisms to yourself, alright? If you have anything to say about anyone’s inappropriate clothing, you can criticize the captain. And then you can try your hardest to convince him put on pants and shoes. Do you understand me?”

“Tch,” he scoffed.

“Talk about my body one more time, and I rip your penis off and make you smoke it.”

Paulie glowered but the hand pulled him tighter. He backed off, realizing the threat was very much real. Nervous blush overtook his gruff expression.

“Yeah, understood,” he rubbed the back of his head. The hand let him go and he stumbled backwards.

“Hey Ropey! What do the gear thingies do?” Luffy yelled from the atrium.

“Fuck if I know!”

“So it’s going to need a big ass lock. I don’t know how hard that is to add to a refrigerator, but I learned quick with the last kitchen that the lock is necessary so the rest of us don’t starve,” Sanji explained.

“Key system or combination?”

“Combination would be preferable, so everyone else can use it. But I’d like to be able to change the combination in case he ever found it out.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Huh. I could modify something like a gun safe? How big are you gonna want this thing? Like how much do you stock up at a time?” Franky puzzled, staring at the cavity where he had planned to put the fridge.

“Honestly, as big as you could make it.”

Iceberg held his chin and nodded along.

The cook thought in silence for a moment. “Hey Lu-,” he looked over his shoulder to ask his captain a question only to realize that the boy was long gone. The other men spun, similarly noticing that they were all alone.

“Oh, hell,” the mayor hung his head in his hands.

“Where did they-,” the cyborg peered like the missing companions were just hiding under the dining booth.

“Go find them!” Iceberg demanded. Franky started to protest before he realized the better implications of getting a quick break from talking appliances.

“On it, bro!” He called, trying to hide the spring in his step as he made his way to the ladder.

The shipwright climbed down into the hull, deciding to start his search bottom to top. Paulie looked up at him, eyes wide and a little scared. “The fuck happened to you?” Franky laughed.

“That woman, she’s the goddam devil.”

“Ugh, I know! Isn’t she the best?”

“AYYYYYY!” Luffy yelled down the hall,“FRANKY!! What do these gears do?!”

“Uhhhhh the room’s gonna spin!” The cyborg yelled back. One missing person found, one to go.

He walked down the hall to ask the captain where Robin was, but backpedaled when he caught the dark shadow in the workshop out of the corner of his eye. She stood hunched over the stack of blueprints, leafing through the pages of drawings.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are ya doin’?! Don’t go through those, they’re secret!” Franky slid into the room. She looked up at him with a mischievous smile, though her hands didn’t let go of the pages.

“Just curious. I told you, I’m not one for secrets,” her lilt made his weak knees weaker.

“Well you better get used to ‘em!” He laughed, placing a big palm on the stack to stop her riffling.

“What’s in here that’s so secret, dirty drawings?”

“I wouldn’t keep dirty drawings in my office, those are back at the tent.”

“Oh, so the tent’s still erect?”

“Gotta sleep somewhere.”

“Mmmm I didn’t think you got any sleep last night.”

“I didn’t,” he winked.

Robin took a step back from the desk, holding her hands up and resigning herself to not  digging any further for the time being. Her lover turned to shut the workshop door but the final inch of closure was stopped by one of Paulie’s boots.

“Door stays open,” the foreman demanded, throwing a warning scowl.

The woman made a gesture like she was smoking a cigar, blowing fake smoke with a wicked expression. He stumbled backward to the other room, but the door stayed ajar.

The two figures in the workshop laughed.

“The hell did you say to him,” Franky looked down at her, butterflies taking away any lingering frustration he’d felt that morning.

“Oh, I told Paulie I’d make him smoke his own dick if he kept making unsolicited comments about the clothes I choose to wear.”

“Damn, I shoulda kicked his fuckin’ teeth in last night.”

“I can handle myself, don’t worry. A fight would have changed the mood of that little outing. I had a wonderful evening as it was.”

“Yeah, true. I had a super good time last night, thanks for goin’ with me. Sorry he pissed me off in the middle there. Dunno why he’s so set on the idea that you’re gonna kill me, maybe he’s just mad he ain’t pullin’ the trigger himself.”

Robin held her pointer finger to the man’s big chest and pretended to shoot. He jokingly staggered back but caught himself at the last moment and pointed one of his mechanical digits back at her.

“It’s not funny when it’s a real gun you’re pointing,” she joked, sprouting a hand to curl the finger back into his palm.

“Hey!” Luffy blew the door right open, “What’s this room?!”

Franky flinched and pulled back, but Robin held firm to his wrist.

“It’s uh, my room,” the big shipwright nodded to the boy, “‘least it is for right now. Temporary office thing, project HQ.”

“Ohhhhh, so you’re not gonna sleep with the boys or the girls? That’s too bad,” Luffy frowned to himself and flopped onto the couch.

“Wha-? Nah, bro, it’s just my room while I’m building the ship. I’ll be outta here once you guys set sail.”

The captain laughed, “Huh? You’re funny. If it’s an empty room can I have it? I’m gonna fill it with meat!”

“Captain, a room like this would need additional equipment to store a large quantity of raw meat. You’d need to ask the cook to cure it so that your ship’s storage isn’t completely filled with rotted flesh. We would become a plague ship in a matter of days,” the archeologist shook her head.

“Or we’d turn to zombies!” The boy spiraled into a fit of hysterics.

“W- uh, yeah. No. Don’t fill this room with meat. It’s the ship’s workshop. The shipwright you pick up on the next island is gonna take it, or something. Whatever. Your maintenance guy’s the one who’s getting this room.”

Robin squeezed his hand, but he pretended to not feel it.

“That’s a weird thing to say,” Luffy laughed, “What about that other room?”

“That’s U- oooo uhhh the same thing. Could be a room for anyone. I dunno.”

“Can that be the meat room?”

“Uh, no.”

The captain squinted but didn’t argue. “So whatcha talkin’ to Robin about?”

“Gotta ask about paint chips and fabric swatches for the girls room.”

“Do paint chips taste good?”

“Oh yeah, super tasty, bro. Hey, speakin’a super tasty meat lockers, I think the cook was lookin’ for you?” Franky asked, remembering what he’d come down to look for in the first place. “He was saying something about a custom refrigerator, extra storage. I think he needs you in the galley.”

“Extra big meat fridge?! Coooool!” Luffy sparkled. He jumped off the couch and sprinted in his flip flops back to the ladder.

Robin grew two hands to cover her mouth, attempting to stifle little giggles.

Franky turned to the woman, “That takes care of him for a few minutes, at least.”

“He already knows.”

“Yeah, but I ain’t super keen to do this in front of him,” the cyborg buzzed. He pulled her by the hand to the corner in the open door’s blind spot. Her back met soft insulation as he snuck one hot, reckless kiss.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she hummed.

“Well, I’m a super dangerous kinda guy,” he laughed against her lips.

A hand slid up the man’s thigh and over his swimsuit, taking a customary survey of the day’s mood.

“Ohhhhh?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

“Yesterday was fun and all but I needed to balance it out with a day in the Favorite. Plus I think I do a better job nailing boards when I got it on,” he winked.

“It’s too quiet in there!” The foreman yelled from across the hall.

“So Robin, what are you thinking for the curtains? Lace? Linen? Silk?” The cyborg bellowed back, covering the woman’s ears so that he wouldn’t hurt them.

“I quite like this one! But do you have other colors?” She projected as loud as she could, following the queues of the lie. Her lover ran his hands from her ears to her waist, pulling her flush to him. He buried his face playfully into the crook of her neck and tickled the slight exposed skin of her stomach. Giggles escaped from her in every direction, intermingling with his own deep chuckle.

“Actually, I liked it better when you were quiet,” Paulie yelled through the door again.

Robin’s nose crinkled with joy and she squirmed out from the iron grip to sit on the couch. A different couch than the one she’d destroyed back at the warehouse, she noted.

“This is quite a lot of insulation down here, do you anticipate it getting very cold?” She pondered.

“It’s uh, noise canceling. Should muffle most sounds.”

“Why would we need a sound proofed room in the hull? Will this be the room for all the torture?” The woman cocked her head but her smile revealed her suspicion.

“It’s, uh, in case the next guy who takes this room has a particularly loud tool. Drilling, hammering, nailing, jointing, clamping, sundering, kerfing. Y’know. Workshop stuff.”

“Does the other room get sound proofed too?”

“It wasn’t in my plans, no.”

“So you’re saying you built a sound proofed workshop for what, a different shipwright to use?”

“And I pre-fixed all the hardpoints for him too, aren’t I super nice?”

“Maybe we were too mean to the ropes man…”

“Ha! Don’t even joke about that,” he rolled his eyes. Franky eyed her up on the couch with a hot gaze and a subconscious lick of his lips.

“You’ve already moved yourself in, I’d hate to make you pack all your things in just two days. It’ll be very hard to get this loveseat out of that little door,” she traced a hand over the arm of the sofa.

“Built the walls around it. I thought that I might as well get comfortable for the time being. The next guy could use it too, if he wanted.”

“I don’t think the next guy will want your gently used and stained couch.”

“It’s brand new, it’s not stained!”

“Yet,” the devil smirked.

Maybe wearing the dick to work was a bad idea after all.

“Hey, I’m gonna need us to talk about something else to make this go away before the guys see,” Franky laughed, one palm raising to try and cover up his semi.

“Mmmm, I cannot think of any other topics to discuss at the moment,” she hummed. A blossomed hand grew from his palm and he yelped, jumping to avoid her clutches.

“Ay, what’s going on in there?!” Paulie yelled from his wooden prison.

“Paint chips and fabric swatches, paint chips and fabric swatches, paint chips and fabric swatches,” the cyborg whispered to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, imagining the most boring possible topics he could think of.

Robin smiled, watching him squirm, “I do quite like the idea of soft bed sheets. But they’ve also got to be very easy to clean, nothing that I could damage by spilling on them.”

“For all the… tea you sip in bed?” He looked almost pained trying to keep the topic on track.

“Yes, I’m a fan of a steaming, hot drink. You should get a say in how the sheets feel too, I’d hate to pick a texture you don’t like.”

“Lucky for you, lady, I don’t have texture sensors that nuanced! Sheets is sheets to me!”

“Then we’ll have to find ones that just feel soft when you’re on your back.”

“Stoooooooooop,” he whispered through grit teeth, “Seriously, I can’t go back out there like this.”

The semi wasn’t so much a semi any more.

Robin chuckled and uncrossed her legs. She stood tall and walked to the open door, smirking over her shoulder. “Then, I think it’s time we take our leave. You look like you’re going to need to take your union mandated lunch break early, and I’d hate to intrude further. I’m sure this problem isn’t something you can’t handle yourself. Keep an eye out, and let me know if you’ve got some free time later. I’d like to see you, if you can escape work for a bit.”

The door shut behind her. A phantom hand locked it from the inside, waved, and puffed away. She must get off on torturing him. Then again, he got off on the torture so maybe the match was perfect.

“What’s he doing in there with the door shut?” Paulie’s deep voice penetrated the wood walls. A second layer of sound proofing was probably going to need to be installed.

“I don’t know, he said he needed privacy after all the ideas I gave him about the layout of the girls’s room. I think he’s drafting something up, it might be a while.”

“Ugh, that pervert.”

“Goodbye, Paulie. Enjoy your cigar.”

The three pirates walked only a short distance away from the boat when Robin paused.

“This view’s quite lovely, I was thinking about reading for a little bit while the light is good,” she hummed, looking out over the ocean. Sanji was not nearly impressed by the pile of trash and debris.

“I don’t know, it’s almost lunchtime and I wanted to get a few things prepared in advance for dinner,” he frowned, kicking a small scrap of disintegrating wood.

“Whoa! Cool! Look at this!” Luffy exclaimed, holding up a piece of metal warped by the sea.

“There’s probably more like that in the pile, I bet you could find some real art in all this scrap,” the woman laughed and took a seat on a rusted sheet of siding.

The captain cheered and dove into the trash, his inner artist blossoming under encouragement. The cook rolled his eyes in exasperation, not impressed by the pursuit.

“I think I’ll be heading back early, then,” he announced to the other too, “Luffy, lunch will be ready when you’re back. So the sooner you come back, the sooner you eat.”

“Look at this one, Robin!” The boy announced, holding up a large scrap of sea glass that she was fairly certain had just been a beer bottle.

“Fascinating, captain!” She urged, opening her book and directing her attention.

Her focus, however, was not on the text. Arms crossed loosely in her lap, barely noticeable. She didn’t have to project far, but far enough to expend significant energy. Sanji said his goodbyes and wandered back to town. Luffy held up some more pieces of old rubbish in excitement. The archeologist never turned a single page.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Franky squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back on the headrest of the couch. His hand moved quick and accurate, an action he’d performed countless times his life. He could be fast, there was no need to savor the experience. He’d gotten his fill the day before, all he needed to do was let the poison flow out of his system and he could get back to work.

She was evil, beautiful and demonic and evil, never giving him a moment of peace. An iron clad grip that never let him go.

Okay, it was his iron clad grip that wrapped around himself at the moment. He pumped a little faster.

Then he saw it. For the briefest moment, out of the corner of his eye. He would have thought it was a hallucination if he hadn’t seen the two little petals float down from high up on the wall.

Maybe he would savor this after all, if the audience was insisting upon itself.

“Like what you see?” He chuckled, voice low. If there were eyes, there were ears. He didn’t need to see her listening to him, but he craved finally catching one of those eyes. All he wanted to do was stare back. Just for a moment.

There, to the left. She sprouted a quick flash of deep blue, just for a millisecond in the corner of the room. He was still too slow for her.

“I can’t believe you left me in this state!” He smiled, hand gliding down himself. His hips shifted their angle to better show off how hard he’d grown.

To the right, this time. Robin’s eye blossomed under the desk, in the shadows. She couldn’t hide the way the light glinted across the iris. Then, it was gone in a flash.

The man stroked his length slow and gentle. His speedo sat long abandoned around his ankles. Pressure wrapped around him, a familiar caress on long, hard days alone. His head rolled again, landing back on the cushion. Occipital sensors scanned around the room and he bit his bottom lip.

“You can- fuck- you can join in if you want,” Franky vibrated behind his lips, trying his best to keep moans quiet. No response. No lips, no hands. Maybe he was just starting to lose it. Talking to himself, hallucinating, dick in his fist.

But then there it was again, just below the open port hole. He was getting faster, picking up her patterns of movement. The eye disappeared the moment he’d locked on, but he’d made it. Dark irises had caught dark irises. Contact. Acknowledgment. The game had begun.

His grip moved faster, too. “How far away are you? This can’t be easy to keep up,” he laughed, dragging his big hand up to focus on the sensitive head.

She spawned the eye above the door, then on the floor between his ankles, and finally over his shoulder. Eyes kept appearing, gazing at an entirely new angle, only to flutter away as soon as he aimed for a real look.

Left, the corner, right, the ceiling. Petals betrayed location a fraction too late. On the floor again. Then left. The pattern continued. He shifted the angle of his wrist. Hair draped lazily  over the back of the chair once more. She threw a peripheral wink from near the desk. That meant-

He stared straight up at the ceiling. One eye opened, trapped. The man could almost see the resigned smile behind it. A second eye joined it and squinted, quiet acknowledgment that he’d succeeded in his self imposed goal. He saw her. The cyborg held her there for a long moment, keeping her fixed in place, though his hand stayed hard at work. Franky stared deeply into blue seas, and they stared back. Sapphire irises poured down into his heart, flickered down further to watch his cock in his fist, blinked twice, and disappeared.

Six fluffy petals rained down on his face, and the big man stuck out his tongue to catch one like a snowflake. Assured lips wrapped around the flower, then transferred it to dwell between his teeth. The cyborg bared his fangs at no one with a joking, silent snarl. The pink softness almost melted away under hot steel. He flicked his wrist again and the delicious motion made his eyes roll, immediately betraying the tone of gruff machismo he’d been aiming for. The whine from his throat buzzed through the flower.

“Pffft, blah,” he spit the petal out, laughing. The cyborg could still feel the eyes on him, but she’d changed her pattern. There, across the room. Robin no longer stayed hidden in the shadows. One blue eye flowered from the mostly-finished wall directly in front of him, staring without blinking.

“Oh, now you want the show? I caught you peepin’ on me at my most vulnerable, and all you wanna do is peep some more? Fine. But I’m directin’ this porno.”

Franky lifted one knee so that his right foot rested on the couch cushions, legs spread out and up as wide as they could go. He pointed two fingers with his free hand at his own occipital sensors and them turned the gesture to point with one straight ahead at the singular eye.

“Keep it on me. Wide shot, that’s One,” he counted. His knuckles dragged quickly over his length.

“Two,” the point moved to the wall on his left, a little higher up. A second eye opened where he indicated just beyond the reach of his hand.

“Three,” the man chuckled, now gesturing straight up at the ceiling back at the spot where he had caught her gaze. A third eye looked down at him, like he were a bug in a jar.

“Keep that one steady, this one’s catchin’ the money shot. Actually,” he rapped the wall with a knuckle over each shoulder, “Four and five. Those are your money shot angles.”

Two eyes fluttered awake, each gazing over dense trapezius muscles.

“Oh, and six,” he tapped the floor with his foot, in line between his knees. An eye opened to look straight up, watching intently from the ground level as he stroked himself above.

“Seven, for variety,” he laughed, pointing to the right wall a bit further away near the locked door.

“Eight, nine, and ten?” A soft voice offered in his ear.

Franky looked to the side into eye two, “Oh, there you are! All I wanted was a little two-way communication! Put ‘em where you want.”

What he wasn’t expecting was where she’d place them. Eye number eight opened just under his sternum, getting an up close view. Eye nine opened on his left inner thigh, even more zoomed in on his detailed work.

“Where the hell did you put ten?” He asked. Faint whispered of eyelashes tickled his brow, and he was reminded of how she’d hidden one on Iceberg’s forehead the night before. The man rolled his eyes to try and see, nodding gently.

“Fine, you can stay up there if you want,” he fixed his gaze back on to Eye One, “Got my cameras in place. Welcome to the fuckin’ show.”

His hips rolled under his hand, using the leverage of his propped leg to fuck harder. The man winked into eye Seven, then stared up into eye Three through long lashes. He groaned a little too loud, drinking in the feeling of so many eyes trained on him. She captured every angle of his body, feeding straight into her mind. It was almost beyond understanding.

A thick bead of precum formed on his tip and he thumbed over the lubricant with a husky moan. His second hand wandered low, grabbing his balls.

“Ya wanna know a secret? This one’s deep, fuckin’ no one knows this one.”

Franky fixed back onto eye One, though two more irises had popped up to form a cluster of three on the far wall. Twelve total. The idea made him leak another short burst.

“So, the Favorite isn’t actually perfect. It’s,” he paused to bite back a moan, “It’s got something super fucky with the contact sensors. I put like, waaaay too many of ‘em in m’balls. Got a bit carried away, just too excited.”

A joking side eye to Two, a smirk to Six, an over the shoulder glance to Four, his tongue tracing bottom lip for Eight. This was too much fun. Any thoughts of being at work and on the clock had faded long ago.

“I know you and him have only met once, and it was kinda fast. I’ll have to introduce you again some time. If I got the time. Maybe one day. Maybe tonight? I’ll try ’n get off tonight- I mean I- ha. Get off work. We’ll see where the night takes us.”

Suddenly, like mass mitosis, twelve eyes became twenty four. Six eyes in front of him, four to each side, two up, two down, four over, six on his body. The sudden double vision made his head spin.

“Seems like you do like what you see after all,” the man raised his eyebrows. “This would be easier if you’d just stayed. Or lent a hand.”

“But where’s the fun in that? I’m watching the show, and the lead is doing his job spectacularly,” she barely whispered.

“Then just sit back wherever you’re hiding and watch a master at work.”

She laughed.

“Are you in a place where you can play along at home?” He asked, glancing over his fists at Six and then over to Nine.

“No, I’m just outside” the words were soft like the petals they transformed into.

“Damn, that sucks. You’ll just have to commit this one to memory then.”

“I wouldn’t dream of looking away.”

Twenty four eyes blinked simultaneously, and when they reopened they doubled to forty eight. They blinked a second time and multiplied once more.

Ninety six blue eyes scattered all around the workshop. That many angles, they practically formed a three dimensional scan of his space, of his body. Almost a hundred little cameras captured every roll of his hand. He drooled a bit, trying to wipe his face on his collar without disturbing the four extra eyes dotted somewhere on his head.

“I can’t stop thinking about yesterday, ‘ve never had a day like that. Sh-shit that was so fun. You’re so fucking fun,” he babbled. Thoughts grew hazy, and the man started to forget he was meant to be performing.

The way the strap had filled him. The way her ass tightened around him. The way she glided as they rubbed together. The way her tits bounced when he fucked her. The way her tits bounced when she fucked him. The swell of the city lights. His name on her tongue. Her name on his.

His cock leaked a steady spring down to his wrist now, fist gliding with ease from the artificial lubricant. Franky closed his eyes with focus, mind replaying round after round after round from the day before.

“If ’s not too much trouble to ask, can I get a-ah hand in m’ hair at least,” he begged, lips swollen from bite marks.

She gave him the honor of two. One twisted at the nape of his neck and tugged gently, the other wove into crown of his head. Fingers carded through the erect strands, stroking him as he stroked himself.

When he opened his eyes, ninety six had doubled again. One hundred ninety two eyes scanned him, each looking at a different angle. Forty eight sparkling gems glittered from the opposite wall fixed intently on him. Sapphires and aquamarine and azurite and lapis lazuli.

“Ohhhh you’re not lettin’ me outta here alive, are you?”

Robin didn’t answer. He figured the energy to keep two hundred eyes steady must take its toll. Sacrifices made for the thrill of the game. A shiver ran through his body and he squeezed both hands in rhythm with each other.

Franky threw a knowing smile to Two, now sixteen gazes. Sixteen more spread on the floor, radiating out from position Six. He was running out of space for his shaking leg, a little worried he might accidentally step on soft tissue.

Artificial occipital sensors stayed fixed on the vision of his dick in his palm, unwilling to get distracted by how Eight, Nine, and especially Ten must look. He himself transformed into the horrid beast of fifty eyes, both Watcher and the Watched.

Quivering breaths shook through his chest. Each of the fifty eyes on his body opened and closed in a pattern of winks. A new one opened on the back of his busy hand, locking him in dead contact despite his avoidance.

“You always do the weirdest fuckin’ shit. Oh my god, I love it. No one else in the whole world doin’ freak shit like this,” the cyborg laughed, speeding up the tempo once more. Whispers and groans flew from his lips, now barely forming real words as he rambled to himself. His eyes fluttered shut, trying to hold on as long as they could. The sea of blues threatened to absorb his floating form.

Franky’s big head lulled like he’d been drinking. The hand in his hair caught him and pulled him back with forceful tug. The pressure on his scalp stung in a way he’d grown addicted to.

“I- I’m-“ Franky tried to say, but sentences had long escaped his grasp. He stroked quicker, feeling the pressure in his belly start to mount. Sleek trickles of silvery gloss coated every joint and knuckle.

The man’s sight returned to him, gazing softly through heavily lidded eyelashes. The welcoming sight almost finished him there. One hundred ninety two multiplied to three hundred eighty four, then seven hundred sixty eight.

“Ya gotta be—mmmmm— e- exhausted.”

At least one eye sat on every object in the room. No matter the position, no matter the surface, they all trained to follow him.

A shiver ran through each eye; they rippled around the workshop like a stone had been thrown in a pond. She couldn’t hold out for much longer. But lucky for her, neither could he.

“‘M- cl- ah!- clooooose,” the cyborg groaned. He rolled his eyes in excessive pleasure, and when they managed to refocus he locked his scope into one final sight. One thousand, five hundred thirty six beautiful, brilliant little eyes. Everywhere. They were everywhere. She was everywhere. Every inch, every angle, every direction. They all shot into him like he was a bug pinned to a board.

One, almost four hundred eyes radiating over the wall like a complex nerve cluster. Two, no more time for jokes and side eye to the crowd of nearly a hundred fifty. Three, a hundred twenty eight more over the ceiling, practically blocking the light. Four and Five, two hundred fifty haloed around him, smirking down. Six, every inch of the floor soft and wet and blue. Seven, the door long covered up. Eight, over his chest, his belly, his pectorals, his arms, spilling out onto the couch. Nine, down his legs, across his hands, on shaking knees, on the tops of his feet. Ten, ten he couldn’t even comprehend. He could see a few in his periphery, feel the lashes blink under his jaw and behind his ear. Dark dots like freckles or moles or wine stains spread over high cheekbones. An enigmatic vision. He wished he could see himself as she did.

Every single one of the fifteen hundred orbs blinked all at once and focused on him sharply. Two hands tugged him back to hold the man tight on full display for his audience of one. One and one thousand, simultaneously.

Franky released the grip around his balls and once again brought two fingers to point at his own sensors. He turned his hand around to point at the original eye fixed in front of him, though this time instead of pointing with one finger, he spread his palm and digits wide to point with all five of them flat. Another ripple traveled over the big, blue sea.

One last eye opened in the palm of his free had. It looked so soft and gentle. The man brought his palm up to his face, making dreamy direct eye contact only an inch away. Everything felt hazy, the tension of the moment right before the gun goes off.

“Finale,” he whispered under his breath, unable to think straight any more. He turned his free palm back around, angling it to cup his cock without touching. Robin was getting a front row seat in a theater where she’d bought every ticket and occupied every chair.

He stroked with two long, luscious pulls of his hard working hand. A few blue irises on his belly and the floor burst into petals in preemptive self preservation. The hand that twisted through the base of his skull reached around to the front to stifle his mounting moan. The other hand pulled rough on blue locks. He pumped hard down his cock one last time. No matter where he looked, there she was, staring back with hungry intent. One thousand windows into her freaky little soul. The sea overwhelmed him. Gun cocked. Trigger pulled.

The explosion rocked through his body on a level he’d never experienced on his own. Waves rolled through him, spilling streak after streak over his stomach, his thighs, the floor, the couch. Hips shuddered uncontrollably under his hand. Gasps and quiet screams filled slack-jawed lips as he released, shooting off like a goddam rocket. Every angle, every view point, every eye in a sea of a thousand watching the show with delight.

Showers of petals filled the air, raining down upon him all at once. She swirled in the breeze of the unfinished window. The lingering reminder of her presence wrapped around him, covering his slick body in her pink softness. A final few shakes twitched through the man, tripping circuits and overwhelming resistors.

Franky struggled to catch his breath, wheezing deep but accidentally inhaling in a mouth full of flowers in the process. He coughed, choking on her ghosts and tried to spit them back out.

“You were right, this couch never stood a chance of staying stain free,” he finally laughed, using his less sticky hand to try and grab one last petal stuck in the back pocket of his cheek.

There was no response. No hands, no lips, no eyes. He frowned.

“Hello? Still there?”

Nothing. The cyborg scrambled on weak legs to poke his head out the open port hole, trying to see if she was anywhere near by. Luffy could be seem jumping off of a pile of debris and running to the crumpled body in the sand just past the boundary of the construction zone,.

“Shit!” Franky’s eyes went wide and he looked around for a way to clean himself off before leaving to help. He grimaced, realizing how unprepared he’d been for the mess they’d made. Again. It wasn’t becoming a habit, it was the long established norm.

“I’m okay,” soft, frail words formed in his ear.

“You don’t look super okay to me!”

“Just need a nap. Took a lot out of me, and I haven’t been sleeping much lately,” she laughed, audibly weakened.

“You wanna go sleep in the tent?”

“Captain’s taking me back to the bunks. Sorry to leave you with the clean up.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Go get some rest, I got this. I’ll try to see you tonight if I can.”

“That sounds nice,” she whispered and was gone.

He looked around room and down at himself, unsure of how he’d actually clean up. It looked like someone had shaken a sakura tree down to its branches in the middle of his workshop.

There was a heavy, angry knock at the door.

“What the hell are you doing in there?!” Paulie yelled from the other side of the wall.

“Uhhhhhh jerkin’ it on my lunch break!” Franky boomed back.

There was a long pause, the other man trying to figure out if he was joking on not.

“… She’s not still in there with you, is she?”

“Nah, she’s long gone,” the cyborg shouted back. He picked up two big fist fulls of petals and tried throwing them out the open window, but the flowers stuck to the stickiness on his hand. He huffed in silent frustration and tried again, throwing what he could out into the strong sea breeze. His shirt came off, tacky fabric mopping up the last of the mess on his stomach and his hands. A rejected flannel cloth sample from his desk mopped up the spill on the floor.

Little pink leaves floated gently on the wind. Some landed in the waves, drifting out to sea or onto the shore. A few landed in the pile of scrap, worming deep between old metal and abandoned ship parts.

Many, many more stayed intertwined in the thick insulation foam that filled the incomplete walls, her potpourri forever entombed into the little workshop.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Nami spun in front of the mirror in the dressing room. She frowned at the reflection but stepped out of the alcove regardless.

“What do you think of this one?” The redhead asked her friend

“Mmm, not your color. But I like the fit,” Robin answered without looking up from where she waited on a plush bench. She buried herself deeper into the local travel guid book on Water Seven, flipping through pages like she was memorizing the city.

“You didn’t even see it!”

“Yes I did,” a hand and an eye sprouted above the woman’s dark hair, “And I already know you don’t like that color.”

“…Yeah, you’re right. I’m going to try the other one on,” Nami pouted. She ducked back behind the curtain to change.

The front door of the little boutique creaked open, flooding the front room with one half of an overly familiar giggle.

“Hey, girl! How you doing?” The clerk greeted the young woman.

“Ugh, Ella, it’s been a week let me tell you!”

“Oh em gee I heard! Girl, they said you guys stormed a prison or something?”

“Totally! It was soooooo cool! Like real bad ass shit.”

Robin opened an eye and an ear behind one of the clothes racks to spy a little closer, despite the mental fatigue. Kiwi stood in the entrance, leaning against the check out counter and chittering with the young woman at the register.

“Okay, wait, also,” the girl presumably named Ella leaned in to whisper, “that’s not the only thing I’ve heard. But it actually sounded so insane I like, needed to ask someone at the source. So is it true?”

Kiwi turned her head in confusion, “The prison thing? Yeah we did that.”

“Noooooo the thing they’re saying about Franky!”

“What, that he got a bounty for the prison thing? It’s totally true, he’s gotta skip town by Friday. Me and Mozu are like, so bummed about it.”

“Wait, he’s gotta skip town?! That wasn’t what I heard at all.”

“Oh crap, then what’d you hear?”

“I thought you’d know! Is it true he’s dating someone?”

Robin’s head snapped out of her book, suddenly very, very self conscious of the conversation she was listening in on.

“Ohhhhhhhh, uh, kinda? They’re more low key than that. But he is hooking up with someone right now, yeah. She’s cool.”

“I dunno, Tiff told Becks that they were like, playing footsie and lookin all cute and shit for hours last night.”

“Oh my god, yeah it’s so funny to watch him. He like, crumples when they hang out. All that tough guy shit goes straight out the door.”

“Okay so like, they are dating?”

Kiwi shrugged but winked.

“Is it true she’s like, a goth witch pirate?”

The woman being discussed balked silently at the description.

“Ahahahahahaha oh my god that’s so funny,” the square girl wiped tears from her eyes, “Sorta? Like, no. But I can see why Tiff thought that.”

“I didn’t think that was his type! Emo chicks?! Woooooooow, dude.”

“His type is everyone and no one at the same time. Or maybe just her. He like, literally can’t shut up about her.”

“And did he really meet her in jail?”

“She’s the reason everyone went to the prison!”

“Wait so he met this emo pirate witch lady at prison and now he’s gotta skip town for it? Are they like, running away together? That’s sooooooo cute, oh em gee. But kinda unexpected for him. Good for Franky, I always knew he had to have a soft spot. Never would have guessed it was romantic!”

“I don’t know what he’s thinkin’! He says he’s not going with her but like, I don’t really believe him. But he’s got to leave the same day she leaves, too.”

Butterflies formed in the archeologist’s abdomen. She tried to turn her attention back to the city guide, back to planning her heist.

“Okay, wait. Is it also true that she once dated Donquixote Doflamingo?!”

“She WHAT?!”

“Tiff said that the girl said something about a Warlord ex?”

Nope, that was it. The rumor mill ended here. Robin slammed her book shut and stood up.

“I’m going to ask if they have that dress in another color,” she announced before walking back to the front of the boutique. Nami stuck a disembodied hand out from behind the privacy curtain, handing the unwanted dress back on its hanger. Robin walked with confident purpose to the front counter.

“Excuse me, does this dress come in any other colors?” She asked, plainly.

Kiwi paled a little bit and looked between the woman and the clerk, “Oh! Heeeeeey Robin, I didn’t know you were here! How’s it goin’?”

“I think there’s a few on the rack over there, we should have it in white, pink, and red too,” Ella smiled politely, though a bit confused by her friend’s reaction.

“Thank you,” Robin turned but kept the eye in the corner to watch the girls.

“That’s her,” Kiwi mouthed with a silent point.

“Her?!” The clerk whispered back, “Really? She’s really cute! Good for him!”

The historian chucked with a self-satisfactory shake. A hand grabbed one of each color option and took the array of dresses back to the fitting rooms.

“Thank yooooouuu!” Nami sang. She opened the curtain up, revealing a short, gold party dress. “Can you zip me up?” The redhead asked.

A phantom hand did so as another hung the new dresses in the changing space.

The navigator gave a little spin, “I think I like the gold more than that that puke color, but I don’t think I like these straps. What do you think?”

“Yes, it’s better but not quite right,” Robin took her seat again, satisfied that she had disturbed the girls’ gossip enough.

“You know what? We need a place to go out and wear these,” Nami wiggled in the dress, “Do you wanna go dancing tonight?”

“I don’t kn-“

“Oh come ooooooon! We haven’t gone proper dancing in ages, and I bet the parties in a city this big would be sooooo fun!”

“It’s Tuesday, I don’t know where we could go on a Tuesday.”

“Does your guide book say anything about places to go out and dance?” The redhead pointed.

“Hmm, I didn’t see anything,” the older woman frowned, before a new idea crossed her mind, “Actually, I’ll be back. I’m going to ask an expert.”

Robin stood back up and beelined for the gossiping young women.

“Did those dresses work?” The clerk asked in a customer service voice.

“I don’t know. Kiwi?”

“Hm?” The girl looked up from where she absently investigated an earring rack, trying to look like she wasn’t just talking about the lady behind her back.

“Nami wants to know if there’s anywhere to go dancing on a Tuesday night in this town. Do you know any places?”
Both girls immediately lit up at the mention of dancing.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, wait. Yes. YES! That sounds PERFECT!” The girl in pink squealed and bounced up and down.

“…So there is a place to dance in the middle of the week?” Robin repeated flatly.

“No, nothing’s planned today. But I got like, what, six or seven hours? We can toooootal plan something in that time. I’ll put the call out.”

The devil woman was still confused. “Y-you?” She asked.

“Uh, duh Robin! Who do you think throws the good parties in town? It’s not the fucking dock workers! If we call everyone up now and tell ‘em that the Family’s throwing a thing tonight, they’ll show up in droves. Word gets around certain circles fast in this town.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“Wait,” Kiwi paused, “The house is kinda in a state right now tho.”

Ella stepped in, “Okay but that’s literally sooooo iconic. Rave at the house ruins? People are gonna talk for centuries about this party.”

“You’re sooooo right! Okay,” the young woman pulled out her baby snail. It rang a few times before her sister picked up.

“Heeeeey,” answered the woman on the other end of the snail.

“Hey, it’s me, I’m hangin out with Robin right now and-.”

“You’re hanging out with Robin?! What the fuck! Where are you?” Mozu’s voice cut her sister off.

“At Ella’s.”

“I’m not far, give me like, thirty seconds!”

“Wait I-“

Cuh-lick. Kiwi pouted.

Nami stepped out of the back changing room area, looking around for her friend. “There you are! What do you think of this one?” She asked the crowd of women, gesturing and turning to show off the short, pink party dress.

“Oooooo!’

“Oh, that’s like, so hot!”

“Very nice, Miss Navigator. Oh, and I do believe I’ve secured the plans to go dancing tonight.”

The front door burst wide and Mozu ran into the shop, panting with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “H-hey,” she puffed.

“Heeeeeey!” Her sister laughed.

“Hey Ella— hey Robin— hey, uh, Ginger. Cute dress, what’s the occasion?”

“That’s like, exactly why I called you! So the Stawhats wanna go dancing tonight,” Kiwi summarized, “You think we have enough time to throw something together?”

“Uhhhh tonight? But it’s Tuesday! Big bro’s got work and the house is kinda a mess!”

“But that’s what makes it an iconic party! The guys have the temp walls up already, and we can sweep off most of the dance floor. The speakers are at the warehouse still, and the lights won’t be hard to set up with all the exposed rebar! It’d be soooooo fun!”

The girl in yellow cracked a smile, “Okay, yeah, that does sound super fun. But how do we get bro to agree? We can’t even get near the construction site to ask!”

“Well then, the decision goes to Zambai. Zambai who’s been wanting a party all weekend. Anyways, better to ask for forgiveness than permission!” Kiwi brushed her concerns off.

“But what if he’s like actually super mad?

“He won’t be.”

“Why not?”

“We’ve got leverage!”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to Robin. She wasn’t sure if she liked being the center of so much attention. Nami looked between the local girls and her friend with a skeptical frown.

“If this is going to be a problem, then I don’t wanna do it,” the navigator grew hesitant, “The last thing we wanna do is piss that guy off right now.”

“It’ll be fine,” the other pirate lifted her hand, trying to keep her small smile to herself.

“If you say so… What time should we get there?” The redhead asked.

“We can be ready by nine,” said the yellow sister.

“So a fashionable ten thirty?”

“Perfect!”

“Okay, sounds like a plan! Nine o’cock, the Franky Family House Ruins!” Kiwi hopped around, “Ella, you and Tiff get the word out. The normal crowd. Mozu, you go to the house and talk to Zambai and then find us a disk jockey. I’ll go to the warehouse and get the speakers and the lights. Robin, pick out something cute. Make it short, sleek, and super sexy. And Ginger?”

“I have a name! It’s Nami!”

“Nami? Buy yourself something something nice,” Kiwi winked and fished the stolen ten thousand beri bill out of her swimsuit top, handing it back to the shocked young woman.

A firework zipped into the late night sky and exploded above the north east corner of the island.

“What the fuck is he doing now?” Iceberg stopped what he was doing, shaking his head.

“Uhhhh I’m sorry, did you just assume that was me?! I’m right here, bro!”

The two men sat on the roof of one of the buildings, nailing shingles into place. Most of the work crew had gone home for the night, leaving just the two step brothers and some sleepy third shift men to mull around the construction site.

“Oh, yes. My apologies, but you can see why I’d assume that was you.”

“Yeah, it did look like it came from the House, huh? They better not be touchin’ my explosives without me there. They should know that’s like, rule number one,” Franky thought to himself. He yawned, tried to shake the tiredness from his eyes, and turned back to his work.

Another firework blew up right as the shipwright brought his hammer down. He winced, missing his nail and hitting the back of his hand with a metallic clang.

“That’s definitely coming from where your house is.”

“Was”, the cyborg corrected, starting to grow a bit annoyed.

“What are they doing?”

“I dunno, and that’s got me super worried. ‘Specially since it looks like they got into the explosives. Without me there!”

“Do you want to go check on the situation?” The mayor asked, genuinely concerned.

Franky fought his gut feeling and  scrubbed a hand over his tired face, mumbling, “Can’t leave jus’ yet.”

“These roofs can wait, And you’re going to need to be properly well rested if you’re wanting to test the laser and the rocket tomorrow. You look like shit, man.”

“Shut the fuck up, bro! ‘M fine!”

Another firework blasted into the sky, and the cyborg looked like he was about to jump out of his skin. He didn’t like the idea of someone with their hands on his explosives, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving the ship unaccompanied in this stage either. A no win scenario. Annoyance festered into proper anger.

“When was the last time you got some rest?”

“Been runnin’ on emergency power for a few days now,” he admitted, a bit sharp.

“What the hell! I told you to sleep last night! What’d you do instead?”

“…Got food with my bros.”

The answer earned him a slap on the shoulder.

“And the night before?”

“Worked on blueprints all night.”

“Before that?”

“Nightmares,” Franky half-lied. He wasn’t about to explain the visions of the flower monster he fucked to the biggest square he knew.

“Did you at least get sleep the night we got back?”

“Uhhhh, I didn’t break into a bar, if that’s what you’re still on about.”

“Oh my god, Bakanky.”

“And I spent the night before that tied up on a train. And before that I was out of town doing late night black market deals. And the night before that-“

“Have you not slept in a week? What the hell?!”

“Runnin’ on the backup system, I’m,” the cyborg yawned, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not testing lasers without sleep. Get out of here. Go home. Figure out who’s setting off your fireworks, make them stop, and then get some goddam sleep.”

“But th-.”

“You’re not coming back to work running on caffeine fumes alone! Sleep, no wonder you look like such a mess,” Iceberg demanded, using a tone of voice that he’d developed when they were boys. His older bro voice. There was no questioning this decision.

“Well- well then you should go sleep too, old man! You got shot less than a week ago, I don’t need you bleedin’ all over my masterpiece!”

“Just get out of here, and I’ll sleep too, alright? I can’t sleep if your goddam rockets keep going off!”

One more firework exploded. Big metal fists balled up tight.

“Go! And don’t come back until eight in the morning!” The mayor demanded. Franky didn’t need any further convincing.

“You think that did the trick?” Usopp cocked his head and loaded up another mortar.

“Tooooootally,” Mozu sang from her perch on a crate.

“What’s this supposed to do, anyways?” The boy asked, lighting the fuze and running far, far away. They both hunkered behind the box as the firework flew into the sky and showered down a rain of sparks.

“Oh, it’s gonna piss him off. Big time.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah, like, rule one is don’t touch the weapons or explosives when he’s not home. It’s like a suuuuuuuuuper touchy subject for him.”

“SO WHY ARE WE DOING THIS?!”

“Because it’s the only way to get him away from work!” She laughed. Usopp didn’t know what was so funny.

The explosion rattled the little temporary walls of the building, though not nearly as much as the bass of the music. Bodies swarmed close, flowing like the tide to the rhythm.

Nami had a hand draped over Robin’s shoulder, the two women jumping and swaying with the beat and the melody. Eyes closed, smiles elated, hips swaying. Every man that tried to interrupt the two women seemed to be pulled back into the sea of bodies by some invisible hand.

She wasn’t waiting. She wasn’t holding her breath for a man. If he showed, he showed, she told herself. It was nearly midnight, but it didn’t matter because she wasn’t waiting. The eye that kept tabs on the front door didn’t see anything. The eye at the bar didn’t either. She was glad she’d practiced pulling herself in so many directions that morning.

Thirty more minutes of not waiting and she’d start drinking, Robin thought to herself. She wasn’t waiting. But his name was above the door, which meant he probably had to show up eventually.

Franky sprinted along the beach. The fireworks boomed much closer, near deafening now. He turned the corner, around an outcropping of rock, bringing the rubble of his former home into view. Then, he heard the music. Loud bass pumped through the good speakers. Neon party lights glowed across the midnight sea.

“What the hell are they doing?! It’s a fucking Tuesday!” He yelled to no one, picking up his speed.

Mozu saw him first from a far distance. She stood up on top of a crate and waved over her head.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” The cyborg bellowed, piss in his veins. She stopped waving, made some kind of gesture to the boy standing next to her, and they both ran into the house like scurrying mice.

He was proper fucking mad, now. Footsteps sped even faster, pounding hard into the sand. He ended his day the same way he’d started it- sprinting down the coast of the little island.

“Cover charge?” The man in the building’s entrace held out his hand.

“IT’S MY FUCKING HOUSE!” Franky pushed past and into the crowded main room.

He spotted Mozu first, not nearly as far as she’d hoped to escape. A big hand held her shoulder, the mouse caught beneath the cat’s paw.

“Explain this. Now!” Any joy had left his voice.

“Can’t hear ya, big bro! Music’s too loud!”

“NOW!”

“Well Za-“

“Where the FUCK is Zambai?!” He tried to put together what she was trying to say but she was right, the music was way too loud.

The young woman pointed at the bar to the man ordering another beer. The mouse escaped into the crowd when the cat had his back turned.

Franky stretched his neck and cracked his steel knuckles, walking with conviction towards the other dude.

“Zambai!” He shouted, grabbing his friend’s arm with significantly more force than he’d grabbed his little sis. This wasn’t a mouse, this was another alley cat.

“Bro!!!! You made it!!! Hey! You wanna beer?!” His number two smiled like nothing was wrong.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“We’re throwing a party, bro!”

“Why the fuck didn’t you run this by me first?!” The cyborg had to yell to just be heard over the music, but he was also in the mood to yell for a bit.

“You were at work, so the decision was mine!”

“WHY are you throwing a party on a Tuesday?!”
“Didn’t get to party on Sunday with you guys! I wanted to have some fun too!”

Zambai gave him a cheeky grin. Franky wanted to punch more of his teeth out.

“Who. The FUCK. Was touching my fireworks.”

“Whoa! Bro, we would never, we know that’s like, rule numero uno! Promise!”

“Then who’s fucking fireworks were those?!”

The music felt like it was getting louder. The bodies closer. The air warmer. The lights colder. Everything pressed in tight.

“That Strawhat guy!”

“Luffy’s touching my explosives?! The fu-“

“Nahhhhh the one with the nose! They’re his, he made ‘em himself!”

“He- Longnose made those?! Really? Don’t fucking lie to me!”

“Promise!” Zambai raised his hand in defense and chugged a significant portion of his beer. Franky’s shoulders immediately relaxed, comforted in seconds with the knowledge that his explosives had not been appropriated by untrustworthy hands.

“That’s- okay that’s cool as hell I didn’t realize he did that. Rock on, little bro. WAIT! Zambai, is he the only Strawhat here?”

The knowing smile from the dark haired man immediately confirmed the answer, “Nah, bro! They’re the ones who asked where the coolest Tuesday night dance parties were, and who were we as a Family to not step the fuck up to the call?!”

The cyborg’s mouth went dry. He grabbed the beer out of his number two’s hand and slammed back a few full swigs.

“A-all of them?”

“Yeah, they’re all here! They even brought the talking chihuahua, that thing’s cool as fuck! Uhhh, they all spread out, I dunno where most of them went,” Zambai laughed and stole his drink back.

Franky scanned the corners of the room, squinting in the dark for a hidden shadow curled up with a little book.

“She’s not where you think she is, bro!” His best friend clapped his back jovially and spun him around.

She was not where he thought she would be, at all. His breath caught and his jaw dropped. Robin was all alone in the middle of the dance floor, eyes shut, arms raised, hips never stopping. Stage lights in pinks and blues lit her raven ponytail from behind. Her midnight blue dress hugged her body beautifully; it lingered a wonderful distance up her thigh and cupped her bust in a way that made the cyborg’s knee joint feel weak.

“O-oh.” All anger, all fear, all frustration immediately evaporated out of his body. She spun with the chorus and he caught a view of the fully exposed halter back. All the oxygen dissipated out of the club.

“She’s the one that asked to go dancing in the first place, but she hasn’t danced with anyone all night! This was her idea!” Zambai yelled and shook both of his bro’s shoulders.

“She-.”

“Go!” Two hands pushed the big, blue man into the dancing masses. Maybe it was his exhausted imagination but it felt like a third hand had joined in the force as well.

Franky stumbled clumsily toward the middle of the dance floor. Dozens of eyes from many men, those who had been pulled back out to sea, stared at the tall cyborg as he attempted what none of them had been able to accomplish all night. He inched closer, treading lightly. When he was just a few feet away from the woman, she whipped around with the beat to face him. The wicked, cold, blue eyes that he’d spent the morning with greeted him directly.

“Hi!” Robin kept dancing.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Dancing!”

“I can see that!”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Uhhhhh…” he was at a loss for words, hypnotized, fixed in place.

“What are you doing here?” She shouted over the music.

“I live here!”

“I thought you had work?”

“They let me go home to sleep!”

She laughed, or at least she looked like she was laughing, though the sound was drowned out.

“I think you might have a hard time sleeping here!”

“Yeah I think so too.”

The song ended but the deejay was quick on the exchange.

“Do you dance?” The woman looked up through long lashes and blunt bangs.

“Fuckin’ love dancing!”

“Then don’t just stand there, you look weird standing still!”

Robin slid up next to him, wrapping her hands over his broad shoulders.

“But what about-“

“I just want to dance!” A bead of sweat dripped down her temple, along her neck, down her back. The music never relented. Neither did she.

“How wasted are you?” Franky laughed, starting to sway gently with the beat. He kept his hands respectfully at his sides, but nervous circuits itched for more.

“Haven’t had a drop! But I was just a few minutes away from giving up and joining in with Nami and Kiwi!”

“What were you waiting for?” He still projected, though not as loud the closer they drew.

“No one!” She smiled, licking her lips and pulling the big body in another step.

A third hand grabbed his fingers, guiding him to her waist before it disappeared. He still tried to keep the distance normal and regular, not dipping too far across her bare back or too far down her skirt.

The music swelled. Breaths were close and hot.

“You sure?” He checked, eyes weak and weariness beginning to creep in.

“We only have two days left. I really don’t care who’s watching,” she crooned directly into his ear. The distance was microscopic. Her chest pressed tight against his, her lips nearly on his skin. The beat dropped. So did his stomach.

“Relax, you look nervous! It’s just dancing,” she smiled against his earlobe.

Franky was holding himself too tight. He was too aware of the fifteen hundred eyeballs from every partygoer in the dismantled venue, too worried about how her friends would react if they were caught. Steel and gun powder and rubber and electricity and horns and the sole of a shoe would all come down on him at once in her defense. He’d be left twitching in the rubble of the crumbling dance floor.

“I-“ he started, but she turned to face the opposite direction. Bare back stuck to his bare chest. Hips gyrated with the music, taking the very last scraps of his will with them. The song shifted again, tempo growing faster. A song he liked. A song he couldn’t ignore.

The waves of melody crashed over him and he let himself float in the surf. His hand tightened, just a fraction more forceful. The raw skin down her back prickled. Slender hands reached into the air above her head. More wrapped behind her and held firm around his neck, two others tightened around his hips. He was stuck in her grip, no way to back out now. Not that he wanted to. Her backside gently swayed against his swimsuit, sending a shiver through every electrical relay. Friction from fabric built like a static shock.

“That’s a nice dress, I like it,” he buzzed directly into her ear.

“Your friends picked it out,” she smiled.

He owed his little sisters a big, big favor after the night was through, the man concluded. His feet finally unmoored from the floor, starting to glide and shuffle with the harmony. The second hand finally, finally rose shakily to hold the other side of her wast. She gasped when he pulled her tighter to him, almost giddy at the physical attention.

Stars peeked through the open hole in the ceiling. Light flashed in oranges and reds and purples. Music swelled, bringing heartbeats with it. Franky felt the knot in his stomach release, replaced by full bodied confidence. If she wanted to dance, then they were going to dance.

He felt the same tingle in his chest that he felt when he surfed, the adrenaline that stirred just before catching a perfect wave. Everything that had come before felt like the way he did when he would duck under the water, letting them pass above him when the conditions weren’t right, salt water stinging his eyes. The ocean would heave on the horizon, his hips anticipated the thrust. The right angle, the right shred. Prone on the board, then up on his knees, before standing strong with feet guiding his direction. Fingers glanced on the crest, spray in his hair. Filtered light of blues and greens and sparkling turquoise refracted over golden skin. All he needed was to stay on course, no room to bail. No reason to wipe out now.

Robin turned again under his hands as the song faded into the next. Her head found the top of his chest, warm exhalations skimming his collarbone. Big hands followed the natural curves beneath the contact; one splayed over the top of her bare shoulder blades and spine. The other dared to dip lower, wrapping around the small of her back. Fingers barely whispered along the low hem of the dress’s fabric. Six graceful arms stayed wrapped around him at different angles, tracing the big man as they danced. Over tattoos, swirling into baby hairs, glancing over dense abs. Deeply intertwined, two bodies twisting with the music.

One song turned to two turned into four turned into eight. Time had paused, or maybe it had accelerated. The bright moon rose higher over the unintended sky light. Cold sea air breezed through the temporary walls, icing bodies drenched in sweat.

The final membrane of skin still felt like too much of a barrier for the man. He needed her closer, to collide on an atomic level. He needed for her to absorb him, to let the monster finally swallow him whole. The pressure between them mounted, and he silently hoped she felt the same way.

Four hands ran up his dense chest and wrapped around his chain. He recognized this trick well, grinning like a fucking idiot that she’d be bold enough to initiate in the middle of the dance floor. Franky was done protesting out of posterity.

Her grip pulled him lower. Hot lips met his, the kiss deep, lusty, and free. If they could hear anything, they would have caught the murmur that rippled through the crowd. The rumors didn’t matter, they were just words. And the time for speaking was long, long gone. Robin didn’t let him go, two more hands gripping his ears and sideburns tight on her level. The big hand on the small of her back took a gamble and grabbed lower around her ass. The stunning little cocktail dress lifted just a little higher.

All the iron in the world and he still felt incredibly weak.

The kiss lingered on his tongue like carbonation. Robin pulled back just an inch, looking at him with eyes that he had not seen that morning. Dark and blown like red wine. Her lips followed his jaw and settled near his ear, parting over his lobe and secretly skimming up the pinna.

“You said you live here, yes?” She asked in a deep whisper, only audible from the proximity.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, eyes fluttering closed.

“So that means you’ve got a bedroom, right?”

Franky’s eyes shot right back open. “Y-yeah, I do.”

“Can I see it?”

“You can do whatever the fuck you want.”

She grinned like the goddam devil and glanced around the room.

“Which door is it?”

“Uhhhhh fuck,” his brain blanked, trying to even put thoughts together. “Uh, left side of the stage, down the hall, far end.”

She responded with another kiss against his ear, “let’s get out of here, I’m done dancing.”

“F-fuckin’ super, what are we waitin’ for?”

The extra hands all disappeared, but one of her originals stayed twisted in his necklace. She guided him across the dance floor with a steady pull. He had no choice nor will but to follow.

“I just… I dunno what to do, bro. I don’t know why I’m feelin’ this way?” Zambai sobbed into his nth beer.

“Uh. Well. Uh. I-,” Zoro stammered, and signaled for the bar tender to bring another round over.

“He’s my best bro, I have loved bein’ his number two guy. I’d do anything for that man. And I know he’s gotta go, it’s better this way- b-b-but…” the man wept.

“Look man, uh,” the swordsman faltered awkwardly.

“You know what it’s like? To give everything to your guy? To totally get him and to always be there for him? And I’m happy for him, this is fuckin’ great for him. He's so happy and he's finally living his dream. I just want the best for my bro, y’know? I look at him and I see the fucking sun, and I can’t ask him to stay here. He hates this fuckin’ town, he’s been wanting to get out of here since the day he was left on this shit fuckin’ island. But I j-j-just love my bro so much and I don’t want to be without him. What am I supposed to do when he’s gone?”

Zoro nodded and took the next round of drinks from the barkeep, “yeah, I’ll fuckin’ drink to that.”

Something rippled through the crowd and both men turned over their shoulders to look at the dance floor.

“Shit,” the swordsman whistled. “So much for sneaking around.”

“H-he looks so happy with her, I c-can’t say anything now! And he’s- he’s leaving! Fuckin’ bro code, dude, I can’t get in the way of that! No way! I gotta hype him up, he’s so fuckin’ into her! But- but- but then why the fuck does it hurt so much inside when I watch ‘em fuckin’ laughin’ with each other and kissin’ n’ all that shit?” Zambai dissolved into drunken, incomprehensible anguish.

“Uh,” Zoro swayed, “what are we talking about?”

Kiwi poured two more shots as her drunken gaze skimmed the dance floor one more time. She frowned, unable to see her mark.

There, left of the stage, a flash of blue was getting dragged through the door that stayed locked for everyone but Family.

“Good for him!” She cheered to herself, throwing the cheap tequila back.

“Who are you looking for?!” Nami shouted over music, grabbing the other shot and downing it quick.

“No one!” The square woman giggled and wrapped her arm around her companion’s waist. “Hey cutie, you wanna like, dance or something?”

“Ay! Chopper!” Luffy screamed, wiggling to the beat of the music.

“Huh?”

“What do you think of Franky?”

“Oh, I don’t really know anything about him. Why?”

“Robin likes him! He’s gonna come with us!”

“What?! Really?!” The deer shrieked.

“Yeah!”

“Well, if Robin likes him, he can’t be all that bad, can he?”

“He’s really tall! And super funny!” The captain screamed over the music, “plus he’s cool to talk to! He’s like a robot and a person at the same time!”

The little doctor stayed very focused on his dancing, “I should talk to him some more, the robot thing does sound really cool!”

“Yeah, he’s a totally one-of-a-kind kinda guy, he’d be awesome to take with us!”

“That sounds really,” Chopper froze, eyes growing big as he thought through the description, “unique. Wait, Luffy? What do you mean Robin likes him?”

“What the hell kind of kitchen is this?” A flushed and drunken Sanji staggered.

“It’s temporary!” Mozu shouted in defense. She sat on a table made of recovered scrap metal as the cook paced around the reconstructed space.

“Do you guys seriously just eat fast food?” He frowned, searching blindly in his stupor.

“No!”

“Then where’s your oven?”

“YOU destroyed it!” She hit back, but her drunken laughs covered any ill will.

“Oh, right. I can’t believe I left a lady without a means to feed herself. Please, forgive me.”

Usopp came sprinting into the kitchen, breathing heavily. “I can’t find our friend any more, I think he left,” the boy panted.

The square woman just shrugged, “well, we tried. Did you see him anywhere before he disappeared?”

“Yeah, it was quick, but I think they were—.”

The sniper looked at the cook, still drunkenly trying to find ingredients.

“What?” The woman asked as she poured out another round of shots.

Usopp cupped his hand like he was telling a secret. Kissing, he mouthed the word, then mimed the action for good measure.

“Aw, good for them! In front of like, everyone?”

“I could make fried rice with this if we got a fire going…”

“Yeah, in the middle of the dance floor. Should we go track him down again?” The sniper asked.

“Nahhhhh, let ‘em have their fun,” the woman in yellow laughed and raised one of the shot glasses.

“Whoa! You see that?!” Tilestone screamed over the roar of the party, finally at a proper volume for the setting.

“You can bet your fucking ass I saw that. He’s fucking in for it now. No way this isn’t getting back to Burg. Franky ain’t gonna talk his way out of it this time. There’s no denying that he's with her,” Paulie crossed his arms and threw back another beer.

“Come on, man. Don’t snitch. He’s a pain in the ass, and she shot the boss, sure. But they won’t be a problem by the end of the week!” The burly shipwright yelled.

The blond rolled his eyes sarcastically and pulled out another cigar, “Oh yeah, when you say it that way, maybe they’re actually perfect for each other!”

Lulu snickered and leaned against the wall between to his coworkers, “he’s getting the interrogation of the century at work in the morning.”

“Have fun, brother,” Tilestone laughed and clinked beer bottles with the other dark haired shipwright.

“Don’t cheer him on!” Paulie screamed.

“Oh my god, Tiff, look.”

“Oh, girl, this’s big fucking news. Everyone’s going to hear about this.”

“Uhhh, so this is it. Sorry ‘bout the mess. It’s under construction at the moment,” Franky announced, pushing open the rough door cut into temporary walls. They rattled and thumped with the music, though the sound was significantly quieter in the back rooms.

He flipped a wall switch, throwing on an overly harsh, temporary halogen work lamp. The buzzing of the construction light harmonized with the ringing in both their ears from the speakers. Dual frequencies wove in and out.

The room wasn’t nearly as technically messy as he’d warned. Some bigger pieces of furniture had managed to survive the attack on the house, or at least he’d had time to repair them in his few free hours. An absolutely massive bed took up the vast majority of space in the room, tall and wooden with a well crafted headboard. Fresh enough sheets had replaced whatever had been dusted with debris and rubble the week before.

Two broken bookshelves and a legless bedside table were shoved in a corner, awaiting their fixes patiently. One big chest with a sturdy lock sat beneath the roughed out window, presumably the second case that housed all the prototype toys. A tall mirror leaned against one wall, though a big crack spit on a diagonal through the middle. Next to it sat a wardrobe with thick handles and scraps of garish fabric that poked out of the half closed door.

A mini refrigerator hummed on the side of the bed, replacing one of the broken bedside tables. Despite the temporary nature of the construction walls, a number of posters for local bands and nearby travel destinations were already pinned back up. A few that had been torn in the destruction were taped together with care. An acoustic guitar lived in another corner, though one of the strings had snapped and had not yet been replaced. The throw rug underfoot was faded, but its presence warmed the bedroom.

“Sooooo… this is a bed. People allegedly sleep on them. And I’ve even heard some people even have sex on them,” he gestured to the furniture. The mattress offered a change of pace from their day of exploration on the tent’s ground. Or the bar’s ground. Or dangling from warehouse hooks.

“Very cozy,” Robin hummed, turning a lap around the room.

“No it isn’t, you shoulda seen this place like, two weeks ago. That was super cozy. This is just temporary,” the man folded his arms with a small frown.

“Give yourself more credit, it’s nice. I like the rug.”

“It ties the rubble and the dry wall together super well, doesn’t it?”

The woman laughed, slipping her high heels off. She wandered to the bookshelves, inspecting the dusty and ripped up titles stacked precariously on broken planks. These all looked to be in even worse shape than the ones they’d organized earlier in the week. Franky walked to the mini fridge, pulling out one last drink to keep his energy high.

“This late? Caffeine just before bed?” The archeologist raised an eyebrow, though she smiled over her shoulder.

“I-,” he yawned, “I really do gotta get some proper rest. Got called out by the boss for not sleeping in a week. But there’s another thing I gotta do first.”

“You haven’t slept for a week?” She asked, fully turning back around and walking to the opposite side of the bed across from him.

“Well, someone’s been keeping me up!” The cyborg winked and downed half of the brown drink in one long chug. She liked the way his throat bobbed as he pulled on the beverage.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Robin laughed and sat on the thin quilt, “If it’s too much, we can just rest. Or I can go-.”

“No!” Franky cut her off, revealing his overly-eager royal flush prematurely. That made her giggle. An extra hand sprouted and pulled her hair out of its updo, midnight locks spilling across her shoulders. She dropped backward, landing on soft pillows that lingered with the smell of pomade.

The man finished the second half of the bottle, placing the glass in a cardboard box with similarly empty vessels. A quiet, little burp rumbled through his chest as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, ‘scuse me. Can you hand me that?” He pointed at a little analog clock on the bedside table next to the woman. A chain of hands passed it over to him and he stared indignantly at the face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Fuck, it’s two a.m. already? Coulda sworn it was earlier. Gotta be back at work at eight so that gives me, what, four and a half hours of sleep?”

“That doesn’t seem like nearly enough time,” she sighed sleepily, bringing two more hands out to absentmindedly caress her own dress.

“Six hours, minus a half hour to get dressed and walk back in the morning. And an hour for uh…” his eyes caught the way she reclined in his bed. The sight was addicting. All exhaustion was immediately pushed to the side, the sugar entering his veins stirred something deep.

“Mmmmm though, now that I’m laying down, maybe I’m realizing just how worn out I really am,” Robin mumbled into the pillow.

“Worn out?” The man smirked and joined her on the mattress. The frame creaked dangerously with the sudden addition of a quarter ton of weight. He frowned, the sound seemingly new and unexpected after so much property destruction. “I should uhhh, fix that,” he muttered, turning to stand back up.

Hands caught his wrists, his knees, his chest, his jaw and turned the hulking body back to face the woman in his bed. She put a real, perfect, manicured finger to his lips.

“Shhhhhh it can wait,” she cooed, pulling him closer.

“But wha-“

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Robin cut him off by kissing him. She was soft and sleepy, lapping gently at the sugar that still lingered on his lips. The music reverberated from down the hall, beat drawing the man in once more. Hypnotized, transfixed by the song and the siren in his sheets. He gave in, rolling his legs back onto the mattress and turning to properly put a hand on her waist. His fingers traced the hem of the dress, over her bust, up her collarbone, behind her neck. She kissed him deeper as his hand lingered on the back of her head, biting his bottom lip gently to really get the blood flowing.

Big metal fingers danced down her bare back until they crossed the threshold where fabric covered her ass. He gripped the flesh tight, groaning at the memory of her on the dance floor. The squeeze didn’t over stay its welcome and he went back to trace her waist again.

On this second lap of gliding touch, she used a hand to keep his palm on her neck. Fingers guided him to latch around the high point of the halter. Robin pulled back from the kiss just long enough to duck under the strap and allow the bodice of the dress to be pulled off. Her released breasts heaved at the freedom, relaxing from the tightness of the little navy cocktail number.

Franky kissed down her neck and twisted to lay on his back. He put both hands on her thighs and pushed the skirt up gently, letting it bunch around her core before he pulled the fabric up and over her head. The dress was tossed somewhere near the wardrobe and he guided her to straddle his lap. Soft, lacy panties ground against shiny swim material, textures juxtaposing their wearers’ styles. The lingerie looked expensive enough that the man made a noted effort to not rip through this pair, though the totality of the sight made him grow painfully hard against her.

She did not take nearly as long to get him undressed. She liked that about him. It was always a quick process. Two hands under the collar, two to lift his shoulder up momentarily. That’s all it took to get his button up thrown in the general proximity of her dress. Efficient.

Fervor grew between kisses. Hands and mouths and hands and lips and hands and hands and hands traveled over every inch of now well-mapped territory. The day they’d lost previously to research was starting to pay off. Robin pushed herself up onto her thighs, lifting herself just briefly to release her hips from their lacy casing. The man took the moment to similarly discard the last scraps of clothing and his impressive erection came to rest along his abdomen.

He sat up, leaning in close as she clambered back onto him. Breasts pillowed his mouth, while his other wandering hand followed up her legs with automatic direction. Dancing like they had been left her soaked, and it took very little contact with his fingers for her to grow pliant enough to take him.

Hips lifted high. Franky used the head of his favorite cock to slowly tease her. The meticulous gyration made her lip quiver, and soft moans mixed with the thump of distant music. The woman lowered herself down, taking him inch by inch. A big hand held her stomach gently, making sure his length never felt painful. He could have almost felt himself settle inside of her with his fingertips, if his hands had had more nuanced receptors.

She exhaled shaky breaths as she began to lift herself, still warming up to the feeling. For as much familiarity with each other’s bodies as they’d developed, she’d only encountered this particular attachment briefly. The nearly novel nature of his most beloved cock made her nervous and giddy all over again.

The pace of Robin’s hips and thighs grew with confidence, relaxing under the big palms that held her close. Extra limbs reached out to hold the headboard for stability and the demon was able to use the leverage to gain momentum. Franky fell back into the pillows, groaning at the wondrous sight in his lap. His big palm caught the side of her head. She took one large pointer finger in her mouth, sucking him gently.

And then, something caught his attention. Sparkling, devious, and shining like the sea. One perfect blue eye blossomed in the center of the ceiling.

“Are you watching yourself -ah- fuck?” The man groaned beneath her legs.

She nodded intoxicatedly and shifted the angle of her pelvis, “I always do.”

“E-every time we’ve fucked?”

“Mmmmmm every time.”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t you if you could?”

She had a point. He hadn’t even realized it was an option until that morning. Maybe if he found a way to connect wireless occipital relays to a transponder and neurointerface… He was getting distracted. The big cyborg stared keenly into the eye in the ceiling. The woman around him groaned.

“Anywhere else?”

“Oh,” she straightened her spine but did not stop bouncing down the length of his cock, “I’m so glad you asked.”

He groaned and bucked deep inside of her, watching the way her stomach twitched.

“One,” Robin called, pointing straight up at the identified eye on the ceiling.

“Mmmm…Two,” on the back of the broken bookshelf to the left.

“Three,” hidden in the band posters to the right.

“Four and Five,” she gestured over his right shoulder and his left on the headboard.

“Six- ahhh,” Behind her, in the shadows of the wardrobe.

“Seven,” in the center of the alarm clock, watching up close.

“Eight’s watching the other side of the door. Nine’s watching the window. I’d hate to have prying eyes catch us when we’re vulnerable,” she laughed.

“And t-ten?”

“You can’t see ten, but it’s at the foot of the bed. And it’s watching the mirror.”

Franky moaned loud as he thrust up.

“Why’d I never notice?” He whined under the touch of a dozen hands. Soft fingers wrapped around his balls, sending an electrical burst up his spine and into his brain.

“Your eyes never tend to wander too far when we make love. You’re very focused.”

“Make lo-“ his brain scrambled and turning to static. She laughed, watching him buffer.

He could feel them, all the eyes trained on his body for the second time that day. It wasn’t nearly the intensity of all fifteen hundred, but knowing he was being watched filled him with warmth.

“Wait,” the cyborg’s mind finally caught up to the present, both hands wandering over her bobbing torso, “ ‘F you’re watchin’, and you’re like that, uuuuuuuunh, and I’m like this, then you’re mostly watchin’ yourself?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Nah, I can’t have this! I wanna play too!”

“Switch?”

“Switch.”

The man grabbed her thighs and lifted her off him with one final thrust. She climbed around him to take his place in the center of the bed as he sat up onto his knees.

“Wait,” he paused, keeping a hand on her calf. She paused, expectant. Franky pointed down at the mattress, “All fours.”

“Oh yes,” she hummed, flipping over. The demanding tone in his voice was a bit new but not unwelcome. Her knees bent, two arm holding her torso up, but many extra limbs gripped the headboard for stability. The enormous man lined his cock back up against her sloppy cunt. He winked into eyes Four and Five on the headboard, then tossed his head back to smile up at eye One on the ceiling.

His dick filled her with ease once more, lubricant leaking down both their thighs. She moaned into his pillows, trying to stifle herself.

“You can be super fuckin’ loud, no one can hear you over the m-music,” he chuckled deep with a roll of his hips. The walls and the bed rattled with two different sources of vibration. Music still penetrated from the main hall.

The big dick inside her twitched and hit all the right angles. Robin screamed.

“Yeah, like that,” he thrust again.

One big hand gripped the meat of her ass tight as he pumped into her. The other pet through her dark hair, slick on her back. He brought a finger down the curve of her spine until he met her pelvis. His grip slid to her abdomen, wrapping under her body to electrify her clit. Fingers on a mission eddied around her nerve.

All the eyes he could immediately identify squeezed shut but did not disappear.

“So you likin’ the view?” He squeezed her ass again.

“O-oh, y-yes,” she moaned, face now pressed against the mattress.

A hand on his balls bloomed once more, squeezing him tight and thumbing over all the extra sensors. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her about the sensitivity. Thrusts and hips shifted again and she gave another loud yell. Eye Four fully disappeared from the headboard in a puff of pink. The hand clutching him accidentally tightened too far. The man wailed at the grip but his thighs shook with unexpected pleasure. It hurt. He kind of liked it.

The cyborg used his hand on her clit to hold her hips steady, fucking her deeper and harder down into the sheets. The bed creaked loud again. The beat of the music faded into the drumming of the headboard.

Franky tossed his head back, hair falling like a crashing wave behind him. He stared up at the ceiling. A second eye opened next to the original and his gaze clicked into perfect junction with hers. They stared up and down, deep into each other’s gaze. The hand gripping her butt let go and the man made a quick gesture- two fingers pointing into his eyes, then turning the two to point up at hers.

“All eyes on me, baby,” he demanded, as if she had anywhere else to look. Busy fingers dragged over her nerve. He thrust deep, and smacked her ass with his free palm.

Robin tightened without any warning, shouting into the pillows. Her hips shook hard around him as her orgasm rattled her bones and quaked with the pumping of the music.

“Good, good,” he thrust through the waves. Her grip overly-tightened again around his sack, nails running over synthetic skin. His eyes were wild and desperate. The two that stared back from the ceiling almost smirked down at him despite their original body’s foggy euphoria. That was it- her transfixed gaze took him over the edge. The friction, the tight seal, and those two beautiful eyes did him in. Franky broke eye contact first, lids closing tight as he unloaded himself into her. His hand held her hips steady, thrusting through the torrent of pent up ecstasy.

He rolled forward onto shaking prosthetic forearms, gripping into the mattress on either side of the woman’s shoulders. She barely moved, save for one hard twitch when he pulled himself out of her.

The cyborg exuded adoration, pressing innumerable kisses into the side of her face, down her neck, across her shoulders, and along her spine. Robin laughed hard when he reached the small of her back, shivering into her skin.

“Didja like that?” He asked, keeping the contact of his lips traveling down to rest on one soft cheek.

The archeologist said something into the pillows, but it was too muffled by the music and her own exhaustion.

“Heh, I’ll take that as a yes,” Franky laughed against her skin, kissing one final smack into the soft fat before rolling off the bed. “C’mon, you can’t fall asleep yet. We gotta get you cleaned up first.”

The demon grew lethargic, limbs like soft clay as he tried to flip her over and prop her upright.

“Can we do that again?” She asked slowly, smile soft, eyes half-lidded, head lolling.

“Like, tomorrow?”

“Every day. Forever.”

❀❀❀❀❀

It didn’t take long to clean up, but it would have taken less time if Robin hadn’t been so tired. The lack of running water proved to be a minor hiccup, but he toweled them both off the best he could. It was a good thing that his bathroom had plenty of well placed hand rails.

Soon they were back in bed, harsh construction light turned off, hands wandering under layers of warm fabric. The woman swam in a soft, old t-shirt that he never liked to wear. The cyborg wore nothing at all.

Franky pulled the quilt up a little higher and cozied down into the mattress. He held his lover close, stroking his hand through her dark hair. Music still thumped from the party in the other room, showing no signs of ceasing any time soon.

“Hey,” the man whispered to the face against his chest.

“Hm?” Robin looked up, trying her best to stay awake.

“So uh, can I say something kinda personal?”

“You? Vulnerable? This would be a first,” she joked, poking at his ribs.

“Oh yeah, I’m a super reserved and aloof guy.”

“What is it you wanted to say?” She yawned.

“Uhhh so I think I’m gonna turn my hearing off, I dunno if I can sleep with the party still goin’. Is that okay?”

“How are you going to hear your alarm in the morning?” She mumbled, finding puzzles to solve in the twilight before sleep.

“Oh, uh, that’s a good point…” he frowned, resigning himself to another sleepless night.

“Do you want help?”

“What?”

“Help. I could keep an ear out for the alarm and wake you up when it goes off.”

“You’d… you’d do that for me?”

No one had ever offered to help before. Not like this, especially. It warmed his core and he cuddled up tighter.

“Of course. I’ll keep an ear out, an eye out. Whatever you need,” she smiled and kissed him in the dark.

“Th-that would be great, wow, yeah. Thank you,” he gulped, trying to not cry right before falling asleep. No need to cry now.

“Of course. It isn’t any inconvenience.”

“‘Kay. Sounds good,” Franky mumbled, exhaustion finally catching up, “‘M turning them off now. I had a great time, thanks for pullin’ me away from work for a bit. See ya when the sun’s up. G’nite.”

He lifted a hand to the back of his neck, behind his ear. A faint click could barely be heard over the sound of the pounding bass.

A gentle hand combed through his bright blue hair. The cyborg smiled as he finally closed his eyes to get some real sleep. They didn’t reopen. Smile lines around his eyes and lips softened in slumber.

“Goodnight,” Robin whispered, “I think I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

Franky was having the nicest dream. Fingers traipsed their way up his spine, holding him in a limbo of sensation. Palms were warm, nails rough. They flowed with his skin, meeting his contours and outlining his grooves. Two, four, six tickled his ribs and he laughed in the thick daze of slumber.

The hands shook him gently, his world beginning to rumble. They tickled him a second time, just a little more forcefully. He tried to cling to the dream but the brightness of the morning sped toward him like headlights.

Except that, as he opened his blurry eyes, he realized that he had not been dreaming. The embrace was real, the touch physical and concrete. He took a moment to think, legs twisted in the sheets of his own bed. Twisted around someone else’s legs, too. Memories of the night before trickled in slowly, though they felt more like dreams than anything his mind could come up with. The music, the dancing, the fireworks, the eyes, the—

Manicured fingernails counted each of his back ribs. For all the hands that covered his back, one remained fixed to hold him around his waist. The woman in his bed curled around him from behind, holding him tight to her body despite their size difference.

He took one more deep breath to savor the moment before committing to consciousness. One final tickle, one squeeze on his bare ass. He laughed properly and rolled onto his other side, now facing the beauty before him.

“Good morning,” he mumbled slowly, eyes raking over the woman with delight. He’d never cared for the faded t-shirt that he’d loaned her, but the way the soft white cotton draped over her body in the filtered morning light was propaganda enough to change his mind. 

Robin waved back and caressed his face. Heaven. He woke up in heaven. The man squirmed and got himself comfortable again, repositioning sheets to cover his legs and curl tighter around the warm body.

She poked at his ribs again and gave an expectant look.

“Wha—?” The sleep lingered on his tongue.

The woman pointed at her wrist. Time. Four hands raised many fingers. 7- 30. Two hands made a gesture, wrists and fists knocking together twice. Work.

“I- oh!” He shot straight up. He had to get to fucking work. It was laser day. “It’s laser day!” Franky buzzed, kicking the sheets off and jumping onto the cold floor. Robin’s face twisted to form a big smile, eyes closed in silent laughter.

The big man ran out the bedroom door and into the bathroom across the hall, not particularly caring about his nudity. He still hadn’t fixed the plumbing issue, so the jugs of emergency water had to suffice. It took only a few minutes to freshen up- a quick piss, a splash of cold water to his face, a comb through his hair, a brush of his teeth. By the time he was back in his room, the body in his enormous bed had appropriated as much space in the middle of the mattress as she could. His old shirt had been removed from the equation.

Maybe he didn’t need to go to work after all. Maybe the lasers didn’t need testing. Maybe there were better uses of his time.

“You’re making it real hard to get ready to leave,” he laughed, walking over to the mini fridge and pulling out four new bottles. Three were put in cold storage, immediately making him feel more awake. The last was cracked open and drunk expeditiously.

A hand tapped the back of his, catching his attention. Franky turned to the woman and her lips moved like she was trying to say something, but nothing came out. He squinted his eyes and cocked his head, trying to figure out why she would mess with him like this so soon after waking up. She chuckled without making a sound, shook her head, and tapped her lips. They moved again, her eyebrows raised like she was asking a question. He looked down at the floor in thought, still very confused about what she was trying to ask him.

“Eh?”

Two hands sprouted from his shoulders, fingers dancing up the length of his neck. One rested on the lobe of one ear, thumbing over the skin and a long-closed piercing. The second followed the arch of the other to its peak. He sighed at the touch and rubbed his face into her hands.

She laughed and shook her head again.

“What? If you want something ya just gotta tell me,” he winked.

Her shoulders trembled in quiet giggles, making everything else bounce with them. Beams of sunlight left stripes over her thighs and butt. It’d been only five minutes and he was already getting distracted. Robin pointed at him. He mimicked, pointing at himself. She nodded.

“Me? You want me?”

Her nose scrunched in a way that only happened when she was most amused, but her laughter stayed silent. He missed how it sounded.

She pointed at his chest again, then up at her own ears. Hear, she signed.

“Yeah, what are you trying to say? Just say it, I can’t hear you!”

Dark bangs nodded with force. Maybe she was just trying to mess with him. The confusion lingered in his brow.

“I don’t got time for games, I gotta get to work soon.” The words rumbled through his his skull.

She rolled her eyes but the smile on her face showed she wasn’t annoyed. Robin sat up from the sheets, climbing to the edge of the bed and perching on her knees to meet him at eye level. Her bare torso leaned close against his. Franky squeezed his eyes shut, no time for games, no time for distractions. He had to be responsible.

A hand tapped his collarbone. He half-cracked one eye open. She made a gesture. Two fingers pointed into his eyes, then turned them back into hers. Watch me.

“I really don’t have time for this game,” the man laughed, remembering the night before.

“No!” Her lips formed. She looked like she was laughing once more. The finger pointed at his chest. It poked him right in the sternum, then tapped the back point of his cheekbones, almost near his temple.

“Stop, c’mon. What are you trying to say?” His chest vibrated with what felt like laughter too. She doubled over giggling, propping her weight up on only his shoulder. This joke was just barely starting to overstay its welcome.

Robin took a steadying breath. She pointed at his chest. She pointed at his face. She pointed at the alarm clock. Work, she signed once more.

“Shit!” Franky panicked, “I didn’t hear the fucking alarm go off, am I late? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The woman keeled over, tears of laughter in her eyes, teetering on just the edge of the mattress. Hands waved back and forth. No. Then the two hands pointed at his chest. Then to his face. Then back at her own face, pointing directly at her ears.

“You can’t hear me? I’m pretty fuckin’ loud, okay.”

No. Graceful hands gestured, almost distractingly. YOU. Not. Hear.

“I can’t he- FUCK! Shit, did I turn my hearing off last night?!”

Silent cheers blossomed from the relieved woman.

A big hand flew to his neck, finding the right notch to press behind his lobe. High pitched frequencies filled the cyborg’s skull as microphones reawakened, piercing a quick little headache before he shook it off.

“Okay, gimme like, a minute for the implant to recalibrate. Thank you. Thank you.”

Robin smiled with success and flopped back into the pillows. The man followed, arms catching either side of her body and he laid back down on top of her. Big, wet kisses were bubbled all across the warm skin of her cheeks.

The first thing he heard that morning was the woman’s lilt.

“Ugh, what would I do without you?” Franky asked against her skin. She laughed again, he felt it in his lips on her throat.

“You’d be on time for work, is what you would be,” she giggled, kissing his forehead.

“Uhhhhh, shit that’s right!”

It took ever ounce of super human strength in his enhanced body to roll out of bed again. He left the wonderful warmth behind and stretched in the morning sunlight. Settled carbonation popped out of what seemed like all two hundred six steel bones in his body.

“Hey, you remember where my dick ended up?” He looked around his bedroom.

“On the bookshelf. You’ve got to stop losing them,” the soft and sleepy voice answered from the pillows.

“It’s a bad habit, I know. Hey, maybe if I let you take one with you as a souvenir, I’ll always know where it is!”

He could hear the frown coming from the woman now, but he didn’t have time in his morning now to volley banter over his decision to stay or not. They’d been successfully avoiding the conversation thus far, but time was ticking. He didn’t know what he wanted. The cyborg’s mind rocked like a dingy on choppy seas, and it was starting to make him sick.

“Mmmmm well it would be-“

“Sorry! I can’t hear you! Still recalibrating!” Franky scrambled as far away from her grasp as he could get in the cramped bedroom. He grabbed his disembodied penis as he breezed passed the shelf and secured it into place, shimmying in front of the cracked mirror. His eyes scanned the floor, picking up a small pile of discarded clothes and sorting out the garments. The swimsuit was lifted up his legs and snapped into place. A big hand adjusted himself and then he turned to swing the wardrobe doors wide open.

The cyborg pulled a little box and a small bag from the depths of the closet. He popped a small handful of pills and washed it down with dark soda. Robin rolled over to lay on her stomach backwards on the bed, feet kicking near the headboard and her head near the foot. She hugged a pillow under her chest to prop herself up and watch the man finish his mourning routine.

Deodorant. Cologne. Sunscreen. The box opened and he pulled out a little vial of clear liquid and a fresh syringe. He slapped his thigh, squeezed the skin, made a quick injection, and massaged the flesh.

“Are your thighs real?” The woman asked sleepily.

“Uh, sorry, did you just ask me if my thighs were real?”

“I mean the front side.”

“You can see ‘em, can’t’cha?” He laughed, picking his toiletry bag back up and digging through for the rest of his supplies. Franky leaned in close to the mirror as he rubbed just a bit of dark pencil into his waterline.

“I knew it,” Robin whispered into the pillow.

“You’re gettin’ to check out the exclusive, never before seen, super secret behind the scenes on how I get all this going, and you’re most shocked by eyeliner and squishy thighs?”

“You put quite a lot of effort into looking like an absolute menace.”

“It’s a refined aesthetic! It takes a lot to look effortlessly super cool!”

“I respect a good skincare routine,” she hummed and attempted to swat at his backside.

“Shouldn’t you have picked up on these things like, four days ago? You’ve looked closer at my face than anyone else in a loooooong time. So what, you just thought my eyes like, did that naturally?”

She laughed and tried to swat at him a second time. He jumped back and picked up a little jar from his bag. Pomade was warmed between two big palms. Franky flipped his head forward, running his fingers from scalp to tip, then flat down the sides. A hand sprouted from the wardrobe door and finally landed its slap on his ass while the man was bent over.

He looked up with exaggerated offense on his face.

“I thought your hair just did that naturally, too,” she fell into helpless giggles.

“Oh yeah, everything about this situation’s au naturale, don’t get it twisted. But there’s no shame in a little help keepin’ it stiff,” he winked.

“Ahhhh so that’s it.”

“Okay, pick a color,” Franky stepped away from the open wardrobe and gestured at the rainbow display of tacky fabric.

“You need something overt if you’re doing construction work, yes?”

“Yeah, totally. So make sure you pick something that keeps me super visible, I’d hate to blend into the crowd.”

“That would be a shame… I don’t think I’ve seen you in orange yet.”

“Orange it is!”

A gaudy button up was taken off the hanger and thrown over big shoulders.

“‘Kay. I think that’s it,” the cyborg did a mental checklist, tapping each part of his body, “Face, shirt, dick, panties, boy-roids, uhhhhh what am I missing?”

“Paulie told me that I needed pants and close toed shoes to walk around an active construction zone, would any of those help?” The woman offered from the warmth of the bed.

“Don’t need shoes when ya got steel toed uh, toes. Same thing with m’ legs, and my naturally occurring hard hat.”

“Except for all your squishy bits.”

“Except for all the squishy bits, yeah. I’ll be sure to not jackhammer my thighs.”

“Oh, now there’s an idea,” she giggled and wrapped the sheet over her waist.

“Don’t get started now, I gotta get outta here,” the man warned. He spotted the last thing he was forgetting, walking back to the fridge to grab his keys of the top and shoving the ring into his speedo. Robin didn’t think it looked particularly comfortable.

“Okay, I gotta- shit I gotta run super quick now. Uhhhh stay as long as you want. Sorry about the water situation, it’s Luffy’s fault. The guys might do a breakfast run once more of ‘em are up but they usually sleep pretty late the morning after a party. Help yerself to anything in the fridge, but there’s only one thing in the fridge. More t-shirts in that bottom drawer if you wanna change. The girls can help you with anything else you need, their rooms are the next two down the hall if you gotta ask ‘em. Uhhhhh, I think that’s it. I’ll try and see you tonight? Maybe? I’ll try. Okaaay! Lo- uhhhhh bye! This was super fun!”

Franky tried to kiss the top of the woman’s head but she was too quick, leaning up to properly catch his lips in a chaste goodbye.

“Bye. Go, run! They’re going to test that laser without you if you’re late!”

“They better fuckin’ not!” He ruffled her morning bangs and gave one last wave before disappearing out the door.

The cyborg practically sprinted down the hallway back into the main room of the House. He skid to a halt when he saw Zambai standing in the middle of the dance floor, mopping up a sticky spill of beer and party juice.

“AYYYYYY! There he IS! You ditched us early last night!” His right hand bro cheered, dropping the mop handle with a crack.

“Bro, have you slept yet?” Franky eyed the tired man.

“Nah, someone’s gotta clean this shit up. Did you get some sleep?”

“Best four hours I’ve had all week!”

Zambai whistled, “So you didn’t end up-“

“Oh, nah bro. We did. Oi- that reminds me- she’s still here, she stayed the night. I dunno how long she’s plannin’ on stickin’ around but she’s just hangin’ out in my room. If she needs anything, help her out. I told her you guys were probably doin’ a breakfast run in a bit.”

“Of course, bro! Nicely done!”

The two men high-fived.

“Alright, now I’m like, actually super late for work. See you guys later. No parties tonight, yeah?”

“Totally! Now go fire that goddam laser at something!”

Franky ran about halfway to the front door and then jumped giddily, punching the air with a big fist. It was gonna be a fuckin’ super day, he could feel it.

Robin knew what it looked like, walking through the city dressed the way she was. She’d borrowed flip flops from one square sister, her heels in hand. The big t-shirt for a band she’d clearly never heard of sat tied at her waist, her short cocktail dress now folded like a skirt. A thin pair of stolen sunglasses covered her eyes. From the way people were looking, it seemed like her stunt on the dance floor had become talk of the town. It was a busy work day at the rumor mill already.

She figured she’d be better off just embracing it. It had been made clear before god and half of Water Seven that she was fucking the infamous town menace when she’d kissed him and dragged him away. She might as well look the part in his clothes and his glasses. It would at least confirm the whispers about the evil emo witch pirate demon child woman from hell on her Walk of Fame.

The archeologist braced herself when she got to the little Dock One bungalow. She pushed through the door, awaiting the frenzied attack of her friends, but none came. The silence scared her more than the fear of judgement.

Nami lay in her bunk, cold towel pressed to her forehead. Sanji and Luffy were both sprawled across the dining table, heads in hands. All three groaned when the front door opened, blinding the interior with the white limestone light of the city at mid-morning.

Chopper sprinted past her, more cold washcloths in his hooves.

“Robin! You made it back! And you didn’t catch what everyone else has!” The little deer cheered and hopped up on a stool to cool off his captain’s brow.

“What’s happened here?” She asked, lifting an eyebrow and pushing back her bangs with her apprehended sunglasses.

“I don’t know! Their symptoms are all different, and everyone seems to have caught them this morning. Sanji didn’t even get up to make breakfast! I’m cross examining everything I can find but I just can’t identify it! What if it’s contagious?!” He fret.

Robin caught Zoro’s smirk. He stood in the kitchenette, leaning on the countertop, arms crossed, chuckling to himself, “it’s not contagious, unless ‘Shitty Cook Who Can’t Hold His Liquor Disease’ turns out to be a virus after all. But I really fuckin’ doubt it.”

“Shut the fuck up! I’ll fucking kill you, you- you- you-“ Sanji half-sobbed from the table, unable to move and unable to think up a good comeback behind his headache.

“Yes, doctor,” the archeologist sprouted three hands to sooth her three ill nakama, “I do agree with our swordsman. They’re not sick, they’re just hungover. The party last night was quite intense.”

Zoro laughed, “Yeah that’s one way to describe it.” He gave Robin’s outfit a once over, bemused and clocking the obvious source of the stolen clothes.

“Hungover? Doctorine never taught me about hungover…”

“I don’t think that bitch has ever been hungover a day in her life,” Nami called from the bunk, eyes squeezed tight.

“Hey! Don’t talk about her that way!”

“Chopper, I meant bitch with every ounce of respect in the world.”

The reindeer looked like his big head was about to explode, “So- so what’s the cure? How do we fix this?”

“Breakfast,” Zoro answered, putting his boot against the leg of the cook’s chair.

“Breakfast!” Luffy shouted.

“Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgh,” Sanji muffled into his folded arms and nursed his pounding headache.

“Everyone, shut the fuck up!” Nami screamed.

The swordsman chuckled deep and put more pressure on the seat, “It’s gotta be dense, it’s gotta be caloric, it’s gotta be greasy, it’s gotta be meaty, and it’s gotta fill the stomach.”

“I’ll fill your stomach with meat grease!” The cook tried to hit back.

“What if mister swordsman and I picked food up? There’s a place down the street that offers something like that description,” Robin offered.

“Breakfast! Now!” Luffy cheered.

“Shut! Up!” Nami threw her wet towel at the table.

The Waterburger establishment was significantly more crowded in the mid morning on a work day after a massive party than it had been the first time the woman had visited. Throngs of people looked deeply annoyed as they leaned against umbrellas outside the restaurant, complaining about the wait on their food. The source of the complaints was immediately identifiable the moment Zoro and Robin walked into the food shack.

“ROOOOOOOOBIIIIIIIIN!!! BIIIIIIIG SIIIIIIIIS!!!” Two dozen voices cheered when they saw her. She definitely did not like this sort of attention. The vast majority of tables in the restaurant were occupied by thongs of Franky Family members, dominating the restaurant as they waited on an undoubtedly massive breakfast order.

“Hey!” Zambai waved to the both of them. Zoro nodded, now decently familiar with his new drinking buddy. The dark haired man grinned, “I didn’t know if you’d stop by, you left before I could ask what you wanted!”

“I decided that it would be best to just place an order for my whole crew, I’d hate to be selfish,” the archeologist laughed. She pointed the green haired man to the chalkboard menu. He stared up at the words with a frown.

“Uhhhh I can’t figure this out,” he admitted after a minute.

“That’s alright,” she turned to the crowd that stared at her, “So, what’s the best hangover cure here?”

All of the men started answering at once, shouting over each other and picking fights over preferences. The chaos was not helpful to the two pirates.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up this moment I will make you wait outside, do you hear me?!” A very, very hungover looking Tiff screamed at them. She picked up her newspaper and attempted to chuck it at the crowd, though the soft projectile accomplished nothing.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Robin chuckled, though she felt a bit bad that the girl had to work in such a state.

“Whatever,” the cashier rolled her eyes, “The tips are always good the morning after a party. So what can I getcha?”

“Can we have, hmmmmm, sixteen breakfast sandwiches, twenty five hash browns, eighteen sides of bacon, fourteen sides of sausage, seven hotcakes, six breakfast burritos- Swordsman do you think that’ll be enough for the captain?”

“Maybe. He might need more.”

“Make that ten breakfast burritos. Nine sides of fruit. Five orange juices. And one black coffee.”

Tiff slammed her head against the counter, “I hate all of you! You’re all the same! What the fuck is wrong with you people?!”

Zoro laughed.

“Okay pops, I know you’re not done with the rush yet, but you’ve got another hell of an order coming up!” The cashier did not look happy, red welt already starting to form on her head.

The little old man muttered to himself, flipping food on the crowded griddle, “First the fucking Family, now the fucking pirates, what the hell has this city come to?! I remember when there used to be some goddam respect!”

Money was exchanged, and Robin slipped the girl a big tip for her troubles, despite the rumors she had been the source of. The green haired man wandered to find an open table, but the archeologist took the long way to stop by Zambai’s seat.

“Hey!” The man greeted a second time.

“Ay! Big sis!” All the other men echoed.

She laughed and raised her eyebrows, “Did Franky mention what he wanted with the bulletin board?”

“No! What’s he want?” The man’s best friend cocked his head.

“He wanted his Bounty poster up next to the no refills sign. You didn’t happen to have a copy of the flier, did you?

Zambai glowed, “Oh, that’s good!” He turned to the hoard of leather and spandex, “Who here’s got a copy of big bro’s poster?!”

The hands of every single man shot up and they all raced to plaster as much on to the bulletin board as they could. The other fliers were covered up or torn down to make room for the same picture of the same face over and over and over. Effective Immediately- No Free Refills. Wanted. Dead or Alive. Forty Four Million Beri. Repeated twenty times over.

“Coffee for Franky’s girl!” Tiff yelled from the counter, fighting back against the shit stirrers in her restaurant as best she could.

“Do not call me that.”

“You didn’t give a name for the order. Just come get your coffee. You know I was talking about you.”

“Ooooooooooooo,” two dozen men acted as chorus. Robin shot them a look over her shoulder that quickly shut them up.

A chain of hands passed the coffee to their main body, scaring the cashier and making the crowd gasp. The archeologist chuckled and walked to the little table in the corner that Zoro had fallen asleep in.

Tiff turned back around only a moment later, “Family order’s ready to go! Now get the fuck out of my restaurant! Go back to the sewers or wherever the fuck it is you live now!”

The stampede of boots rushed up to the counter, everyone grabbing and sorting out a truly incomprehensible number of greasy paper bags. The cacophony raged on for many minutes until everyone had all their breakfast squared away. Every single man said bye to Robin on his way out the door, each one following the next like a chain. They all shared a degree of sympathetic enthusiasm for their big brother’s novel affair.

“Bye, Robin!”

“Bye, Robin!"

“Bye, step-big-sis lady!”

“Bye, Robin!”

“—What did he just call me?” She looked puzzled by the exit phrase.

“See ya, Robin! Zoro!” Zambai was the last out the door.

“Bye Robin,” Zoro mocked with a laugh, his eyes still closed. She winced, trying to not take the words so seriously.

The crowd’s departure left the restaurant feeling quiet and empty. The little cook still grumbled as he started the orders for the people outside, shooting angry glares at the pirates in the corner.

“Soooooo,” the swordsman peeked his eyes half open, “you wanna explain what this is all about or should I just guess?”

“Heh, I think the evidence speaks for itself,” Robin took a sip of her coffee, a third hand absentmindedly playing with a salt packet.

“Uh, the evidence has spoken for himself since we got back to town, I kinda just wanna hear you say it,” Zoro teased, now looking expectantly at her.

“Mmmmm that is true, I supposed. So,” she hesitated, “so since we got back I’ve been spending quite a lot of time with Franky.”

“Uh huh, and what do you two do when you hang out? At two in the morning?” The swordsman looked skeptical, but his cheeky grin revealed he was at least decently world-wise.

“We- well we- Hm. So,” the woman blushed a little bit, trying to decide how she wanted to phrase it. “We just… enjoy each others company. We came here one time.”

“Yeah, you brought me a souvenir.”

“Yes!”

“So what, you like, boyfriend girlfriend now? Step-big-sis? Franky’s girl?”

“Please never say those things again,” her eyes grew murderous, “I don’t know where those phrases came from, it isn’t that sort of arrangement.”

“Uh, maybe they came from when the whole damn city watched you make out with him at the party and then drag him like a dog across the dance floor,” Zoro laughed, leaning back in his chair.

“You saw that?!”

“I’m pretty sure Nami and Curly are the only two who didn’t see you do that.”

Robin immediately relaxed a bit at the revelation, “oh, good.”

“Why not just tell them? You’re a grown adult, you can sneak out at two in the morning to fuck whoever you want. Don’t give a shit about what they think!”

“It’s not that easy,” she bit her lip, “It wasn’t supposed to go this far. I just wanted something quick and emotionless- at the time.”

“Psh,” he snorted, “is that the night you came back looking like an absolute mess? That was quick for you?”

A phantom limb shoved the man’s head gently in jest.

“It started that way, yes. But then something changed-“

“At that damn pool party?”

“I- I think it might have been, yeah.”

“And now he’s your big roboboyfriend?”

“No, I don’t think that’s the case. It’s still very much…physical. But then things got messy and now I really don’t know where we stand,” Robin frowned, displeased. Watching the man’s big family fill the restaurant with cheers and laughter, she knew why he would be wary of giving that up so easily. Her stomach knotted thinking about how she had manipulated his words against him.

Come with me. I’m taking you.

She didn’t know if she still had the heart to be greedy. If he truly didn’t want to go, she wouldn’t want to force him into a life in which he would grow to resent her. If she took him with them, he’d be trapped in a little wooden vessel, so far from land, where all he could do was masticate on memories of his real Family.

“Hey, did Luffy mention the talk he had yesterday to you?” Zoro asked, leaning in and lifting his eyebrows.

“No, what talk?”

“That guy, the one who just left, uhhhhh what’s his name? Zamboni? He wants us to take Franky when we leave. And the captain’s all on board with the plan.”

“What? Why did Zambai say that? Why would he want Franky to go?”

The swordsman shrugged, “He got real wasted at the party last night, started crying about it. I guess he’d rather see his aniki with people that like him and can protect him, if he’s gotta leave no matter what on the same day we do.”

“But the rest of the crew doesn’t like him,” the woman took a long sip of coffee.

“That’s not true! Luffy thinks he’s funny, and that’s really the only opinion that matters. Everyone else can deal.”

“Really? And how do you feel about him?”

“Meh,” the green haired man shrugged, “He was a bit of a dick, but he’s making amends so he can’t be all that bad in my books. I think I just need to have a drink with the guy and we’ll be fully cool.”

“And our navigator? She’s threatened his life numerous times now,” Robin still remained skeptical.

“I dunno! Talk some girl crap with her! If she knows you like him, she might be a little nicer. But I don’t think that witch can ever be won over.”

“And the cook? Would he actually be alright with another man on board? Especially if my… arrangement with him were to remain intact?”

“The shit cook can fuckin’ deal. Don’t let his crap perversions get in the way of you chasing your own. Just, uh, just don’t go overboard. The new boat’s bigger but it’s not that big, the rest of us gotta live on it too, got me?”

The woman smiled, “I entirely understand. But we don’t know if he’ll leave town willingly. Franky seemed very adamant about staying here each time I’ve broached the question with him.”

“Wait, you asked him already?!” Zoro squinted at her.

“Luffy told me his plan to ask back at the pool party. And then I may or may not have said I would trick him into coming with us. But I didn’t know his Family wanted him to go. That changes things a bit. I don’t know. I might be just as confused as he is.”

Robin’s eyes unfocused from the man across the table and found the bulletin board on the other side of the restaurant. The conversation felt so different and yet so similar to the one she’d had in the same restaurant a day and a half before.

Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. No Free Refills. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted. Wanted.

She didn’t know what she wanted any more.

She wanted him to be happy, no matter where he was. She wanted for Franky to free himself of whatever weight lingered in his steel ribcage. She wanted more mornings like the one she’d woken up to that day. She wanted to dance again. She wanted to stop hiding the truth. She wanted the week to never end.

Can we do that again?

Like, tomorrow?

Every day. Forever.

“So that settles it. He’s leaving with us, if he likes it or not,” the swordsman shrugged.

The woman sighed, “I just don’t want him to resent us, to hate us for taking that decision away.”

“So then you got two days to convince him.”

Robin chewed on the inside of her cheek, “It won’t be easy. You saw those men, his people care a lot about him. I can’t make him give up the family he’s already found for a woman he’s hooked up with a few times.”

“Psht, a few times? No one’s seen you in days,” Zoro shifted in his seat, swords clattering between the chair and the tabletop.

“Okay, more than a few times,” she counted to herself out on her fingers. And then she lifted a third hand and kept counting.

“Shit, alright! I get the idea!”

“But regardless of his feelings-“

“Wait,” the swordsman interrupted, “What feelings does he have?”

“He said- alright, so he did say he was in love with me.”

Zoro laughed loud with his full chest, “Oh, so he’s fuckin’ pussy whipped! Yeah, we’re gonna have no problem stealin’ this guy. How’s that make you feel, though?”

“I… I think I’m still trying to sort out how I feel. I do think there is… definitely something there, though it also feels too early to say. I have only known him for a few days. But I won’t deny that f-feelings haven’t crossed my mind, sure.”

“Right, but if we take him with us, you’re agreeing to living full time on a little boat with a guy in love with you. Is that something you’re okay living with?”

“I live with the cook already, don’t I?”

“Good fuckin’ point. Worst case scenario, you’ll just have a second shitty little puppy to drag around.”

Robin laughed at the mental image of both boys yapping at her ankles. There were worse worst case scenarios to be ladened with. They both sat in their thoughts for a moment, Zoro unreadable.

“So,” the man eventually put his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and leaned back, “Is it as big as he wants people to think it is, or is he just compensating?”

“Mmmm… a bit of both. Depends on the day.”

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“I won’t say,” she smiled, mischief in her eye, “But he is a… very talented inventor.”

“The hell?!”

The woman chuckled and took another big sip of her coffee.

Zoro thought quietly for another beat. “He likes the hands thing, doesn’t he?”

“Oh yes.”

“Figures. Fucking pervert.”

“BIG ASS ORDER UP FOR THE DEVIL WITCH PIRATE CHICK,” Tiff screamed, even though the restaurant was now fairly empty.

“You’re being summoned,” the swordsman laughed, kicking her shoe softly with his boot.

“She could be talking about anyone.”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on,” Robin stood up, “Give me a hand getting this food back before the captain implodes with hunger.”

“I don’t think you need any extra hands,” Zoro stood, his scabbards banging loudly against the fast food restaurant’s chair.

“I still appreciate the help. And thanks for the chat.”

Franky was at a crossroads. More literally, though his internal turmoil still pulled at the back of his mind, too. He knew the way to the warehouse he’d been designated to build the submarine in. Dock One had significantly better resources than the beach, and he needed to be as focused and precise as he could when assembling a vessel designed for high pressure oceanic environments.

But he was in the area. Robin was close by, he could feel it. The bunks weren’t on the way to the warehouse deep in the back of the shipyard, but they also weren’t not on the way. And he could be focused and have company, he lied to himself. Six hours alone in an empty warehouse? He could build the sub in five and then have some extra time left over, as a treat.

He made up his mind and turned left down the path. He didn’t stop to say hi or even look through the windows. All the big, blue man did was walk by the sleeping quarters. His feet slowed just a little once he’d passed, but he’d figured her out well enough to assume she’d seen. There had to be eyes all over the place.

He wandered just a few more turns down the path between warehouses and stock rooms. He smiled to himself as he walked, never turning around to acknowledge the shadow that had begun to follow a half block behind.

The warehouse was fairly isolated, and other men had already filled it with all the necessary metal and wires and supplies for the project, so there was no need to come and go. Franky left the big front door open just a crack and headed into the dark, immediately taking inventory of his materials and setting his blueprints down on a crate. He eyed the pulleys in the center of the wide space. Damn. She’d ruined hooks and winches for him. That would be a problem in his line of work.

A ghost slammed the bay door shut.

“So, did you know,” the man called out into the dark, “that approximately uh, every single man in this entire town saw me get pulled off the dance floor to get laid last night? And then all of them felt it was necessary to ask me about it when I got to work this morning?”

“Yes, I got a very similar reception from your boys at breakfast as well. They seemed… enthusiastic about your exploits,” the cool voice answered from the shadows, like a prowling cat.

“Oh god, I’m super sorry about them. My boys can be a lot, I’ll tell ‘em to stop.”

“I thought it was sweet, the way they celebrate their big brother’s victories,” the demon laughed. She finally made her position known, stepping out from between two tall stacks of crates. “So how did the laser test go? They didn’t do it without you, did they?”

“Nah, they couldn’t figure out the controls. It was fuckin’ super… okay, the first test was a bust. But I got it working by lunch. And the rocket went great first try! But that one was easier, I’d prototyped the propulsion system a looooong time ago. Just had to make it bigger,” he laughed and started organizing his papers and tools.

“That’s fascinating. I’m looking forward to seeing it in action. So what brings you back indoors?” Robin asked as she hopped up onto a tall double stack of crates. Her long legs crossed over each other, knees just below the man’s eye level.

“No distractions, no distractions,” Franky whispered to himself, trying to keep his vision locked on his plans, “I have a submarine to build, and I gotta stay focused to make sure it doesn’t like, implode at the bottom of the ocean or something.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to clear your thoughts first before building it? You already seem awfully distracted before you’ve even begun.”

“Nope! No, no I can’t do that I gotta stay focused!” He risked shooting her a glance. Big mistake. She was sitting well above him, looking like she was sizing the man up to eat him. Raised eyebrows and sapphire eyes peeked over the top of his own sunglasses. “Oh,” He gulped. It took all of his iron will to not reach up and kiss her, but he knew if he started, he wouldn’t ever stop.

“I’ll leave if it truly is too distracting.”

“N-no it’s fine. I can do this, I can focus. Promise. I just gotta finish this fast and then if I got some extra time I can fuck around for a minute before I go back,” the cyborg frowned and pulled his eyes with all his might back to his work. His fists balled and he took a deep breath to steady himself. “I can do this. No distractions. We can talk and I can have company while I work. I totally like having company when I work,” he reassured himself, unconvincingly.

“Finish fast? That isn’t generally your style,” Robin chuckled.

“Pleeeeeeaaaase,” he begged, close to tears, “I mean it.”

She put up her hands in mild surrender, “Fine. I can wait. I’m patient. So, what are the rumors going around about last night?” It wasn’t a major topic change, but it was enough to alleviate some of the tension.

“Meh, nothin’ that isn’t super incorrect. Gotta lotta dudes congratulating me this morning, that was weird. And I think there was a betting pool on if I’d even show up.”

“Were you late after all?”

“Only like, five minutes. I run fast.”

He started opening up crates and rummaging through them for sheet metal and bolts.

“Actually,” He looked up over his shoulder at the woman who was definitely not checking out his ass, “If you’re gonna hang, can I get some help?”

“What do you need?”

“Two hands-“

“Ah!”

“No! Two hands just to hold this for me,” he unrolled the first of many tubes of blueprint paper, “I just gotta see what bits I need.”

Robin chuckled and two hands reached out from the crate just above the one he was sorting through. The man grinned and placed the draft between her fingers like a musician readying his tablature.

“Thanks. So uh, what’s the side of the gossip that you’re hearing? ‘M guessing you’re not getting quite the same response. Sorry to bring down your reputation.”

“Oh, my sparkling reputation as a demon who tried to assassinate the most beloved figure in town? How will I ever recover from the added rumor that I also, in fact, have sex with a handsome man.”

That made him blush and laugh, “Okay, maybe we got pretty even reps.”

“Water Seven’s most Wanted. I’m am, however, hoping this will change the perception of me being an eight year old. I don’t enjoy the ‘child’ epithet particularly, but that also seems to be one of my only other notorious identifiers in this city,” the woman frowned and inspected her nails.

“Yeah, hey, I do sorta forget that was you. You’re kinda like two different people in my head. Heh, I remember bein’ a teen and like, super scared of you jumpin’ out of the shadows with a knife and tryin’ ta steal my brain or something. But you, uh, you’re nothin’ like that. Super crazy, huh?”

“It’s not too late, we could always try something with knives.”

“I dunno if it’s my thing,” the man stood and turned, arms full of supplies, “I’d rather explore other stuff first.”

He was pretty proud of himself, he thought as he dumped his materials on the floor beneath the hooks. He could have a regular, normal guy conversation and keep the topic on sex without getting distracted. Or, at least, just minimally distracted.

“You’ve only got a day and a half left, that’s- what- only a handful of chances to try anything new. What would you want to prioritize?” Robin rested her head in her palms, watching him take a seat on the ground. She bloomed two new hands next to him and used a daisy chain to pass the draft paper to a spot where he could reference it.

“Uhhhh, shit, I don’t really know. There’s still the prototypes, but I can’t think of any good time in the next few hours for us to get to some real R and D. Like, I’d want to take notes.”

“How thorough!” She laughed, “Yes, you’ll be too busy with the ship to go as in depth as we really should. I like that you’re a man of science. The devotion is admirable.”

“So, uh, you like me?” The question haphazardly sprinted from his lips. Franky was glad he had his back turned so she couldn’t see the cringe of embarrassment he made at his own words. The goal had been something significantly smoother, but the thought never properly blossomed. It didn’t matter, she was probably watching from another angle anyway.

“I think I like you quite a lot,” Robin crooned, “I wouldn’t be so keen to keep this affair going if I didn’t. But I understand now why you want to stay. It takes a lot of strength to give up what you desire for the good of your Family. It’s selfless.”

“Desire’s got nothin’ to do with it,” Franky grumbled as he sorted out his bits and pieces.

The noise in his brain was distraction enough without the demon’s presence. Confusion clawed at his wires. He felt unsure about so much, unsure about his relationship to the woman sitting behind him. Who she was, what she meant to him, if she could ever love him back.

He only knew one thing for sure. Submarine.

“Uhhhhh, keep the sunglasses on, they’re welding safe. Maybe cover your ears, if you want,” he called back, breaking out his welding torch and using it as an excuse to move on from the conversation.

The craftsman worked diligently for a while, building out a significant portion of the submersible in little time. As he welded, his brain sped through every thought he’d had for the last week. Every tug in every direction. Everything he wanted.

After a while, he paused to get back up and collect more materials. The cyborg lifted his goggles and rolled onto his knees, finally looking up at the woman reading on the crate.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she said after a moment, closing her book and glancing down at him.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” Franky asked, trying to wipe his brow without getting dust and oil on his face.

“Thinking about what I would want to prioritize if we only have three to ten possible sexual encounters left before Friday morning.”

“Ten’s a kinda high limit, don’t’cha think?”

“Sure, but not unheard of. I didn’t want to eliminate the possibility,” Robin answered in defense.

“Yeah, I hear ya. So what do you wanna try?”

“Could I, perhaps, have sex with you with your chest plate off. Please? I’ve become quite enamored with the idea of it,” the woman proposed.

“Uh, no. Not happening,” the man frowned and moved to a new crate of supplies, almost a little upset that she’d mentioned the topic.

“I promise I won’t touch anything squishy, I just want to see it all move.”

“No!” He laughed, though much of the humor had left his voice, “I can’t have anythin’ out in the open air for too long. Believe it or not, that’s kinda bad for organs. And I don’t want your hands getting pinched in anything. It’s like, properly unsafe for both of us.”

“I’ll show you my insides if you show me yours?” She offered cheekily. The cyborg could still hear the laughter on her lips even with his back turned.

“But I don’t want to show you my internal organs in the middle of sex in the first place! I like showing you the normal number of organs! The external, detachable ones!” His voice grew a bit sharp as he dug through the box of scrap.

“I come to you, with my heart in my hands-“

“Nico Robin if I turn around and you have a literal heart in your hands, I swear-,” he sighed. “It will not change my mind, I’m not showing you my insides. It’s not happening.”

Franky stood up, gave it a moment, and then turned on the balls of his feet.

“The joke isn’t funny if you guess the punchline,” the archeologist huffed, and threw two handfuls of flower petals into the air like pink confetti.

“The joke isn’t funny if scaring the shit outta me is the punchline.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, you know me. I’m a super serious dude.”

He put down his metal sheeting and walked back over to stand next to her perch. The archeologist looked down with a sour expression, though he didn’t know how real it was, or if this was part of her game. The cyborg wiped his mechanical hands on a work rag before resting them on her knee.

“Okay, I have one way that I would agree to you looking at it,” he muttered, but he didn’t like the words he was about to say.

“Oh?” She lit up.

“I could do it, but I’d need some vulnerability and trust from you too.”

“Hm? How so?”

The tall cyborg sighed, “I really don’t like this idea, and I don’t like this compromise for either of us. But I could do it if you were cuffed.”

“I’m perfectly fine with a few little restraints,” Robin shifted in place with a sultry smile.

“No. Not fluffy pink sexy cuffs. Sea prism stone cuffs,” he disliked the words just as much saying them as he thought he would.

The woman’s face immediately fell, “You don’t- you don’t trust me?”

“No, I trust you. Fuck, I trust you more than most people in the whole world, and I’ve known you less than a week. But my trust has real, practical limits. I’d make anyone in your position wear ‘em. But you especially, the hands are a liability. It’s all a liability. I don’t want either of us gettin’ hurt. If something went wrong, I could die.”

He kissed her knee, but it was clear she pulled back slightly.

“I- I can’t agree to that. No,” she shook her head.

“Great. You are not looking at my exposed chest, then. And you’re definitely never seeing me without my face.”

“Sorry, your face?!” The woman’s jaw dropped.

“Nope! Nope! I shouldn’t have said it was even an option!”

“Please?! Why not?”

“I think it’s perfectly normal for a man to feel insecure about exposing his internal bits! I don’t want ya fondlin’ my kidneys or my eyeballs for the same reasons as everyone else!” The cyborg threw his hands up and turned back to his work.

“But-“

“It’s not happening, definitely not in the next two days. Maybe in like, a million days. If we ever make it that far, then I’ll consider showing you.”

“That’s over two thousand years.”

“Perfect! Sounds like a super plan! Ask me again when you’re back in town to visit in two thousand years,” he laughed, pulling his goggles down and his torch out. Sparks exploded again and the conversation wilted away.

The noise didn’t deter the woman from her book, and before long the frame of the submarine had semi-recognizable walls and a floor. Rivets were fired in loud bangs and the oscillating saw ripped through tough sheets of steel.

Franky poked his head back around from the opposite side of the sub and padded over to the crate he was using as a temporary work table. He squinted through his goggles and tried to understand a note that he had left himself.

“Uhhh, hey can you read that?” He pointed at the page and held it up.

“If you can’t read your own handwriting, I surely won’t be able to,” his companion laughed. The man shrugged in agreement and leaned against the box, pulling out a beverage for himself.

“Want some?” He offered.

“No thank you, I over-caffeinated with my coffee at breakfast,” she declined.

“You end up going with the guys?”

“I left before they could get my order, but when I saw the poor state of my hungover crew mates, I knew there was only one fix. The swordsman and I ran into your Family at the restaurant.”

“Oh my god, who got those kids super drunk? All of ‘em? That could have killed gorilla-bro!” The man balked into the hole of his bottle.

“The doctor is fine, but it was the work of your little sisters that kept the navigator and the cook too drunk to notice any out of place occurrences.”

“Soooo you’re sayin’ the rest of your friends still don’t know?” Franky asked, looking up at her through his long lashes. He walked a step over to lean against one of her calves gently. One phantom hand emerged to clean a stripe of grease off of his forehead and wipe it on the shop rag.

“The swordsman found out, I told him this morning after the undeniable greeting from your Family. Actually, he found out a few days ago, he’s smarter than he looks. But mostly, it’s because he’s the one that sees me come back in the middle of the night.”

“Ooooof, yeah I did say goodbye super loud that first time, huh?”

“The loud goodbyes, the borrowed shirts, the sex hair, the drowning incident, the cheeseburger tribute, making out at the party. I think the evidence is starting to weigh against us,” the woman laughed.

“Shit, are the rest of your friends just never fucking paying attention? How the hell haven’t they noticed?”

“The captain knew. The navigator noticed that there’s something to notice, she just doesn’t realize it’s you. The cook… I think he’s blinded himself to any kind of reality, in all honesty. Now, mister Longnose hasn’t-“

“Oh! Uhhhh I told him. In more or less words. Less. We were having a lil’ therapy sesh thing and I mentioned you. Kinda,” the man blushed and buried his face in between her crossed legs.

“What do you mean?”

“We were talkin’ ‘bout like, feelings and crap. And he told me about his girl back home. And he accused me of having a crush on you.”

Robin gasped in faux surprise. “You have a crush on me?” She laughed.

“Stooooooooop,” he whined, burying his blush deeper in her knees.

“Mmm, speaking of rumors and accusations, I heard a fascinating one this morning. Would you like to hear it?”

“Let’s hear it!” The man clapped one palm on her leg and looked up with a grin.

“So your number two man was drunkenly crying to our swordsman last night. And allegedly there was a conversation between him and the captain.”

“Between Zoro-bro and your captain? They talk all the time, don’t they?”

“No, between Zambai and my captain. The Family wants you to leave with us, too. They want you to stay safe, even if that means not staying here,” the woman reached down to caress the cyborg’s hair, but he pulled back before she could make contact.

“What? Zambai said that? No fuckin’ way, nuh uh. He would never. This is one of your tricks, huh?” Franky pushed back on the crate and used the momentum to turn in the other direction. He walked away back toward the submarine, hoping she couldn’t see his face. His eyes stung behind protective goggles.

“I’m not tricking you, I promise,” Robin defended, a little hurt by his assumption.

“Nah, because my bro wouldn’t say that about me. They need me here, I gotta stay here for them. And if they don’t want me here either then- Fuck, I don’t know,” he pretended like he was wiping sweat and dirt off of his face, rather than the hot tears that pooled in his welding goggles.

“I don’t think they meant anything but love in the decision, they want you to be happy. They want you to do what makes you happy!”

“Helping my family, caring for them? That’s what makes me happy. Don’t listen to Zambai, he’s a sloppy fucking drunk. He might think he’s my best friend but he doesn’t know everything about me.”

The big body scurried to the backside of the vessel. The sound of the blow torch erupted without warning. Sparks began to fly once more. Franky tried to use the distance to calm himself, but he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

Almost an hour later, the entire exterior shell of the vessel had been completed. The watertight hatch locked into place on top. A big cut out shape awaited its glass covering. The cyborg had long since relaxed, though he still rolled the idea of his friend’s wishes around in his mind. He now lay sprawled on the floor assembling each component of the cockpit controls- steering wheel, radar, sonar, transponder connection.

It had been a long day and his mind was growing weary. A little snail radio wheezed out some staticky old rock songs, warming the concrete of the warehouse. He kept catching the way the woman bounced her crossed leg to the music out of the corner of his eye. Which inevitably led to him staring at her legs. And then staring at all of her.

“I’m trying my very best to not distract,” Robin hummed without looking up from her book.

“Oh, I know. You’re doing a super job. But I’m weak willed, easily tempted, and my attention span’s fucking crap. So distracted I’m gonna get,” Franky laughed, clearing some space around him and laying down flat with his back to the ground.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked him, smiling down at his starfish form.

“You ever think about havin’ kids?”

“What?!”

He laughed, “Heh, not like, right now. But like, I dunno. Some day?”

“W-with- with you?”

“Oi oi! I never said with me! We don’t even got compatible puzzle pieces! And I just met you like a week ago! I was just askin’ in general!”

The woman thought to herself for a moment, frowning a little, “I hadn’t given it much thought until a few months ago. I was running for too long to really consider it an option. And then I wanted to end my life significantly more than I wanted to bring new life in. I’ve only had about say, five days since changing my mind about that philosophy. So I’m not sure. Maybe one day- I reserve the right to change my mind- but no, not at the moment. I’m not withering and stressed for time just yet.”

“Wait, can I ask how old you are?”

“I’m older than twenty and less than forty.”

“Super clear, thanks.”

“How old are you?”

“Just turned thirty-four like, two weeks ago.”

"Oh, happy birthday."

"Thanks! It's been a pretty great age so far," the man made a little wiggle with all his limbs, like he was making a snow angel in the wires and components on the ground.

Robin uncrossed her legs and repositioned herself, smiling down at him, “Have you thought about having children? You’re in the prime position.”

“I got a few hundred kids under my House already,” he laughed, “But uh, no. The only seahorses I care about are my two big pet ones. It’s not for me. I took out half the hardware before the accident, and the train took the other half with it. Though, I kinda always wanted to crack the artificial swimmer question from like, a science brain perspective. But uhhhh I dunno if I’d be ready for the experiment’s conclusion, if you catch my drift.”

“You raised quite a lot of your Family?” She asked, though the phrase sounded closer to a statement.

“Oh yeah! Got ‘em through school, got most of ‘em sober-er, housed, employed. Shit some of ‘em even got married and now they’re raisin’ Family of their own. And I know there’s more people I need to help. Hey, you notice that this town’s got like, a super bad orphan issue? It’s one of my like, actual big proper fucking qualms with how ‘Burg runs this place.”

“You do all that for them?” Her voice grew soft.

“‘Course I do! Someone’s gotta. You don’t get people off the streets with big business and a super elitist military contracting company. You feed ‘em. You cloth ‘em. Even if they just wanna wear fucking fetish wear all the goddam time. This island’s sinking, y’know. But that means the last guys who’ll feel it are the ones at the top of the fountain. Can’t fix a leaking ship from the crow’s nest. Ya gotta meet the rising tide where it’s at.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you would make an excellent father.”

“Blech, even that!” The cyborg blanched, “Father, ew, fuck no. Fathers are distant, they can’t relate, they got jobs you can’t explain. I couldn’t insert myself on that hierarchy ladder above someone, y’know? My guys don’t call me father, that makes it sound like a cult or a religion. I don’t want nothin’ in return, I just wanna help a bro out when they’re in a rough spot.”

“I think that you would, definitionally, be able to call your posse a cult. How often do you perform blood sacrifices?” The woman laughed.

“Every full moon, like any self respecting cult of leather fetishists! Don’t insult the Family name by insinuating otherwise!”

They both laughed as Franky rolled to sit back up.

“Why did you ask me about children?” The archeologist looked into the distance, puzzled.

“Dunno, just figured I’d ask. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re into someone, yeah? Ask all those kinds of shitty icebreaker-y questions?” The cyborg stood and stretched his tense shoulders.

“I suppose so. Are you going to ask me my five year plan next?” Robin snickered.

“I’m always lookin’ forward. So, where you gonna be in five years?”

“Hm. That’s a good question,” she paused, “My life plan’s changed pretty recently, so I guess I could pick anything, right? It’s five years I didn’t think I had but now I do. I guess no matter what, I want to still be with my crew. I’ll be, hm, early-to-mid thirties still? Maybe a book. Maybe, by five years from now, I’ll have a book published out there, circulating around the world.”

The man did some quick math in his head at the mention of her actual age and nodded to himself contentedly. “I’ll preorder my copy as soon as I can,” he laughed.

“I’d even autograph it for you.”

“You’re super generous.”

“Anything for a fan,” she giggled, “What about you? What’s your midlife crisis plan?”

“Uhhhhh my quarter life crisis was a bit of a train wreck. So literally anything’s better than that,” He tried to laugh through the pain.

“Maybe you get a midlife crisis speed boat?”

“Lady, this project here is my rocket powered laser boat. The real deal’s gonna be waaaaay bigger, stupider and more self indulgent than this.”

“More self indulgent than a rocket powered laser boat? Is that possible?”

“Uhhhhh totally! Maybe like- oh fuck, I know what it’ll be, yeah. But some shit would have to go down for me to even begin to justify the creation,” he stretched each bicep and then flexed each hip to loosen tight joints.

“Let me guess… a… motorcycle?”

“Nah, that’s not a crisis, that’s already on the list of things I’m waiting to build. The mental breakdown invention’s a mech.”

“A mech? Like, a big robot?”

“Yeah. You’ll know I’ve totally fuckin’ lost it the day I rock up in a big ass, second, bigger robot.”

“Like a cyborg matryoshka doll?”

“Yeah! And then I make a little guy and I put him in the fridge and it’s like a big recursive thing! And a fourth, even tinier guy inside of him!” They both laughed.

“Maybe the seahorse dad life is calling you regardless,” Robin smiled.

“Ugh, yeah, maybe that’s the real fatherhood. I’ll make me a semi-sentient super robo-boy and then train him to take over the world.”

“Truly diabolical!”

“Well, I’m a bad guy,” he smirked.

“I have worked for many, many evil organizations. You are by far the nicest bad guy I’ve had the pleasure of accompanying.”

“Shhhhhh don’t go around spreadin’ the rumor that I’m a softy, okay? Can’t let my super hard ass reputation slip.”

“I’m pretty sure your ass is the only part of you that isn’t hard,” She spawned a hand and squeezed the soft flesh, “Though, I do believe I’m actually helping with those rumors. Your cheeseburger saleswoman has loose lips and an even looser understanding of the things she overhears.”

“Wait, what? What’s she saying about me now?”

“Not just you- us. The big news amongst certain circles appears to be that you’re in a relationship with a- how did she put it- an evil goth witch demon pirate from hell prison? And that I left Donquioxte Doflamingo for you.”

The man broke down into laughter, bracing himself on his knees, “Okay- shit I-,” he struggled to catch his breath, “That’s so fucking good, holy shit- yeah that makes me sound like a total evil badass, I’ll fuckin’ take it! And it makes you look absolutely heinous, damn!”

He couldn’t stop laughing at the mental image of a cutesy fast food date sharing milkshakes with a demon from hell. Which, he figured, he did essentially do. And he had a great time.

“What does it say about me,” he tried to settle his breath, “that I find the most offensive part of all that to be that we’re in a relationship? It’ll totally devastate the masses to learn you’re a four-day girlfriend.”

“Personally, I take the most offense to the Doflamingo thing, ew. Never,” she shivered, but paused. “Four-day girlfriend? Is that how you’re thinking about this? I thought you were against the notion of a title, unless you’re wanting to re-discuss the topic.”

“Uhhhhh I dunno. You know how I feel about’cha, but it’s complicated. Ask me again in two days once I’ve made up my mind about a few things,” Franky shrugged and sat back down. Big hands started to fiddle with wires once more.

They fell into another comfortable silence, listening to the radio. The presence of the other body was easy, and the man grew just a little sad at the idea of creating his midlife crisis projects in total isolation.

Another hour, another milestone. The dashboard was installed and the detail work of the vessel was roughed into place. Now he was just having fun, sculpting fins and teeth.

“Oh!” Robin looked up from her book, “It’s themed! That’s fun!”

“You like it? I figured it would be cool. Got that unique skeeze,” a big metal hand slapped the iron siding with a reverberating clang.

“It’s… cute. Not sweet cute, but… cute. You’re a hard worker. And very creative.”

“Yeah, I try suuuuper hard,” he rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Why theme it?”

“Eh? Oh, I dunno. I just figured it’d be fun. Love a fuckin’ theme, I’ll throw animal ears on anything just ‘cos.” he chuckled, taking a step back and standing next to the woman’s legs to stare at his creation as a whole.

“What color is it going to be?” She asked, bumping her calf against his shoulder.

“Mmmm, I was thinkin’ blue.”

“Blue? How unexpected.”

A hand ran up the back oh the man’s neck and twisted into his hair.

“Well you know me, always gotta do the unexpected.” Franky laughed and shifted himself to stand between her legs, though still facing away. She adjusted her knees so they rested fully on his shoulders, calves and feet draped over his chest. The high perch on the crate she’d spent the afternoon on positioned his head and updo at the perfect hight for her to entangle herself.

“Why are you making this?” She mused softly, prodding his brain.

“Uhhh I dunno. Like I said, for fun. And like, kinda useful. Plenty of crazy shit out there, maybe you guys need a sub one day. Plus, it’d be super cool for you and Luffy and gorilla-bro to be able to check out the bottom of the ocean in relative safety. Like, you could see the coral reefs, or those whale bones you were talkin’ about!”

“Mmm, you do make some very convincing arguments. Maybe I would enjoy full unrestricted access to a sub at any time of the day.”

The fingers pulled just a little harsher in his duck tail.

“Ay, now! I got plenty of other modes! Just because I let you chain me up once doesn’t mean I don’t like it other way!” He let the hands tug his face backward so that he looked straight up at the demon.

“Oh, do you now? I might like to see that before I go, I quite liked you calling the shots in bed last night.”

“Yeeaaah,” the cyborg sighed, remembering their evening together, “that was a good time. We could try something in that vein, if you were okay with it. I got the uh, capacity to get dominant. But I don’t wanna cross a line or freak you out or something. I’d just have to be smart about it.”

The legs shifted behind him and something unspoken hung in the air.

“Y-yes I think I’d be very interested in trying that,” she hummed, words nervous but excited. “It wouldn’t cross a line, I promise. And I know you could turn it off if you somehow did.”

“C-cool yeah,” he shifted, equally a bit heightened, “Uhhh, I still got a lot to get done before I can take a break. But I’m not far. Promise.” Franky took a step forward, but the hand stayed fixed on his scalp and pulled him back in. “Pleeeeease,” he begged, most un-dominantly, “just a little longer. One last push, then I can get as distracted as you want.”

“One last push, then you finish?” She whispered in his ear with a low chuckle. The hands released but her legs stayed around him like a harness.

“Uhhhhh…” the man’s brain crashed for a moment.

“Have you been enjoying yourself this week?” Robin asked, inquisitively.

“What?! Are you fuckin’ kidding me?! Of course I have!”

“Alright, I just wanted to check that you’re still having fun.”

“I’m having the time of my life! Never felt more human than since we started hookin’ up,” he smiled, kissing the squishy part of her thigh just above her knee.

The phantom hand returned to his hair, “Is that part of it? Does sex make you feel… human?”

“Oh, totally! That’s like, one of the great joys of life. Got to cling to what I got left. Shit, I remember layin’ in the dark the first like, I dunno, a week after the accident. I was all fucked up, it fuckin’ sucked. I was so… mad. Mad at everyone. Mad at the government. Really, really mad at myself. Like I just wanted to die right there, in the dark. Just get swept away. Not finish the job myself, but if a storm came and the roof caved in and the sea swallowed me up, I wouldn’t give a fuck. Y’know?”

“Yes, I think I know exactly what you mean. No to the physical extent, but mentally? Absolutely.”

“Yeah, you get it. I thought it was all over, if the life I had was gone then there was no point in gettin’ back up. I’d ruined my home, I ruined my family, I ruined my life, I ruined my body.”

“Mmmmm.”

“But then death didn’t come, and I found myself taking stock of what I had, even if I couldn’t really feel it. Was fuckin’ fumbling around in the dark for… way too long. But even then, I had the itch. Super bad phantom limb syndrome for a long ass time, and all they wanted to do was like, tinker. It was the only feeling I could capture in my brain. Stripped down to the bare fuckin’ minimum, bleedin’ out, and my distracted ass still needed a task.”

“So you started making things again?” Robin hummed, leaning down low to reach his ear. Extra hands wrapped over his shoulders and torso in a tight hold.

“Yeah. When ya got nothing, the only thing to do is start making something new. That’s what I love about like, the concept of creation. Raw materials, disregarded scrap, taking it all and reforging it into something cool or beautiful or useful. Like this thing,” Franky pointed at the submarine, “Anyone could have made a million different things with this much sheet metal. And even if someone else also made a submarine, it would come out a million different ways. But I’m the only one who could make this thing myself the way I did. Everything I make is like that. I made my hands, and then my hands made something else. That’s radical.”

“Do you still get the phantom limb feeling?”

“Oh totally! Like, I don’t think I could go a day without the itch. I always gotta keep ‘em moving. Kinda scared they might rust up if I don’t, heh.”

Three blossomed hands grew and wrapped their slender fingers around his much bigger ones. “And what about your other senses?” she asked.

“Yeah, they’re the same way, too. I got no more room for subtlety. There’s a certain frequency that my hearing aids can’t distinguish, so all my music’s gotta be loud and fast. I know I talk kinda loud, ‘cuz sometimes my ears ‘n my voice box get a bit outta synch. My left eye’s still kinda fucked, I wanna go back and give it another shot one day. But everything I look at has to be like, high contrast, bold, bright. Shocking, I know. Taste’s- well I told you about how I taste stuff already.”

“Funky Style or nothing,” the woman recalled.

“Yeah! That’s how all my senses are, pretty much. My whole world’s gotta be Funky Style if I wanna participate in it. Sight, taste, sound, smell, touch. Art. Dancing. Music. Sex. That’s why I fucking love hooking up with you. You overwhelm everything, but I need it that way. I can’t… I didn’t think it was possible to find someone who had the abilities to meet me where I was at. Let alone also wanted me. I think that’s why I’m so afraid to let you go. I’m never going to find someone like you again, I know that. But it would be way too selfish to keep you all for myself, I know that too. You give me something no one else really can any more, but you can get everything I have to offer from any other dude out there,” the cyborg’s voice choked but he was able to shake the feeling away before the flood fully took him.

Franky looked away, but continued, “I gotta take up space if I wanna demand that I’m still a person. I gotta be loud, be intrusive. Because I know I am- I’m still just a guy, doesn’t matter what other people think. Can’t take my soul away just yet. But I also gotta chose to live every day. Wake up, take my pills, do my shots. I used to hate routine, but maybe being just a little bit of a machine is necessary to make the squishy bits feel squishier, yeah? And eight years without really fuckin’… like it sucked but I got to focus on what made me feel good on my own in this new body with all the bits I wanted. Got a chance to remember what uh, inspired me. Kept the creative juice flowing. Yeah. I dunno if all that answers your question. But fuckin’ and making stuff. That’s the super raw human spirit right there, ‘least for me. That… and a caffeine high.”

Robin laughed, face pressed down into the top of his head.

“Uhhhh, so enough about me and my shit, what about you? You enjoying yourself this week?” He asked, wiping his cheeks in a manner that was not particularly subtle.

“Oh, absolutely,” she answered, “I felt like I was fumbling in the dark too, though maybe less literally. Everything was muffled, ever since I could remember. But my eyes have only been open for a few short days, and everything feels so good. Bright and vibrant. I was so used to fire only destroying that I forgot it also brings warmth, energy. The wold is so much bigger than I used to think it was.”

“Yeaaaah, sounds like you’ve been seduced by the power of that Funky Style skeeze! In your face, all senses, all at once. Super fuckin’ radical, isn’t it?” Franky laughed and finally turned around to face her, bumping his forehead against her’s and letting his big hands rest on her hips.

“Yes, seduced is how I would describe it. But I’m still not ordering that sandwich.”

The woman giggled and leaned even deeper to finally kiss him. It was soft but filled with intent. Kind but direct. No margin for subtlety.

“Well,” he pulled back just a hair, “you don’t gotta get the sandwich. That’s my funky style. You get to find your own now, that’s the fun of the process. What makes you tick? Inspires you? Gets your uh, creative juice flowin’?”

“Death, mostly.”

The man took a step back, a little uncomfortable, “I- uh. Well. Um. I dunno about-.”

“Oh! Not like that! I thought you meant more literal creative juices. Sorry,” she laughed.

“Phew, alright, cool. I thought you were talkin’ like, some rigor mortis shit. Please don’t kill me, I’m kinda liking being alive right now,” he grimaced, but was relieved at the clarification.

“No, that doesn’t interest me. I know I want to live, now, but I think I’ll always be fascinated by the subject. What I mean is I wouldn’t mind if we got darker.”

Franky stayed a step away from her but he laughed and started to pick his tools up off the floor. “Oh, I can get darker. That’s no problem. Just gimme like, another hour or two to wrap up all this and then we can do whatever.”

The devil wasn’t listening. Their kiss had opened the portcullis and she wasn’t ready to close it again just yet.

“Or you could take your break now, then finish up in an hour?” Robin offered with a wry smile.

“Uhhh nope! I gotta finish this now or else I’ll forget all my super smart ideas when my brain leaks out my ears and it’ll never get done. Gotta keep the momentum going,” the cyborg  laughed and walked further away. “Don’t get distracted, focus, dude, focus,” he whispered under his breath.

She jumped off of the crate for the first time in hours, landing soft like a cat and trying to close the distance between the two bodies. “Not even a little distracted?” She purred.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

“Not even-“

Two extra arms pulled her shirt off.

“Please- I’ve got to f-uhhhhhh-“

“F-uuuuuuh-ck me?”

“Focus! I gotta finish my work!”

Her dark bra dropped to the ground. The man tried to take a step back but he hit the cold, thick metal of the submarine. He gulped, trying to keep the itch in his hands at bay.

“You look like you’re very focused on something,” she laughed, noticing the way his eyes locked to her chest.

“I want to, so, so bad, but I-“

“You’re right, you’ve got a lot of work to get to,” her voice dropped an octave as she pressed her body against his.

“Please.”

“Please, what? Tell me what it is you want.”

His eyes flicked between his mostly finished work and the body against his. He knew what he needed to do, which path he needed to pick. How to be responsible.

“I want you,” he whispered on instinct, before he caught himself and shook his head. “But I need to get this done. We can fuck after,” Franky declared, pushing past her, picking his supplies back up, and walking to the other side of the sub.

“Oh really? This is what you want?” She smirked, following at his footsteps. 

“Give me an hour, you can wait!” He half-growled.

The deep fry sent a shiver over her bare bosom.

“Mmmm, you’re right, maybe I do like seeing these other modes.”

“This isn’t a sex mode!”

“How far will you go to eliminate distractions?” her eyes flashed dark, nudging him closer to the edge.

“Nico Robin,” his voice boomed like cannon fire, “if you don’t stop distractin’ me right now, I will tie you up in the corner of this warehouse and leave you there until I’m done with work. And then I’ll fuck the hell outta you. In an hour.”

She smiled with demonic victory, eyebrows raised, “Is that a promise?”

Franky froze, realizing the words he’d said. The longer he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. She’d have to play along, but it seemed like something she obviously wanted.

“Y-yeah. Yeah! Don’t think I won’t, either! I’ll leave you there and make you wait for it, I’m very busy.”

Two phantom hands were already lifting up bundles of fresh, soft ship’s rope.

He gulped.

“I’m not usually one for such treatment, but you are the professional,” she slid back up against his big chest.

“Yes I fucking am, this is my job. I’m at work!” He grabbed one of the rolls of cord in one big hand, “All I know are rough fuckin’ sailor’s knots. And I rig my lines tight.”

She moaned. He struggled to keep his composure.

“So what are you waiting for?” Robin looked up at him, soft and sultry, lips wet and parted.

“You sure?” He whispered under his breath, dropping face for just a moment.

“We’re having fun, like we always do. I trust you. Same rules as before,” she winked back, a little softer.

“Cool. Cool,” he flashed a quick smile and then almost immediately dropped it. Gears shifted in the cyborg’s brain and he fully committed to the other mode.

“Pick your clothes back up. This is a construction zone, not a bedroom. Put ‘em back where you were sitting,” he ordered, trying to keep his tone even.

She did so, folding up the garments and placing them gingerly on the box.

“Take your pants and shoes off. Everything.”

The woman shimmied out of her clothes slowly, rolling her pants at a snail’s pace.

“I don’t got time for this, hurry up so I can get back to work,” he slid up close next to her nude form, waiting just over Robin’s shoulder for her to finish stripping. She smiled over at him as she set the last shoe down, savoring in the pushback.

Big hands scooped her up into muscular arms, holding her body tight to his skin. She wrapped herself around his neck and kissed the scar under his jaw as he walked them to a back corner of the warehouse. The catwalk above created a much lower ceiling, and many boxes blocked the view between the spot and where the submarine sat mostly constructed. Isolated. Obstructed. Secret.

Franky held one bundle of rope in his free hand, and a chain of limbs followed on the floor passing the second. He set the demon woman down on the cold concrete ground, pressing her shoulders with a light but firm squeeze.

“Stay,” he instructed. She laughed and immediately took a step towards him. “What’d I just say? Stay,” the cyborg moved her back into place with playful force. He turned his back and walked over to the cinderblock walls of the warehouse.

“I need two hands. Here and here,” he tapped the wall and two limbs bloomed, “Good, thank you. Hold this.”

Metal fingers handed each hand one end of the rope and he began to walk backward, unwinding the bundle. His grip slid down the length, unafraid of rope burn, until he found the exact midpoint of the cable. The man made a big loop between his fingers and walked back to where Robin stood.

He ran a palm over her hair and cupped her chin, bringing her gaze up and his lips down to her ear. “Ready?” He asked with a hint of kindness for just a moment.

“Oh, yes,” she sighed, eyes fluttering shut. They met in one final, deep kiss. His free hand steadied the back of her head, holding her tight and with purpose.

Hot mouths separated and he leaned lower to kiss along her collarbone and up to one shoulder. Franky sucked her prickled skin gently before he stood and got to work. He shifted the rope to sit in between his thumb and his palm. Mechanical hands wrapped around petit wrists and he raised them to cross in front of her chest. Breasts pressed together tight between her strong biceps.

The cyborg traced her from shoulder to shoulder, over her back and then across her chest. Rope met itching flesh and he bound the high points of her torso. When he reached the center of her bosom again, he hitched the ties and crossed to loop around her wrists.

“Too tight?” Franky checked, but she shook her head with a tender smile. Wickedness suddenly crossed the demon’s face and she let out a mischievous little laugh. Six hands sprouted over the man’s big body to palm the back side of his swimsuit and tease his bare chest. Shock crossed the cyborg’s face, almost mockingly offended she would touch him.

“I didn’t realize you were going to be such a brat, damn,” he scoffed, frowning down at her before noticing how he’d crossed her arms. “Ohhhh, that’s why. No, we can’t have that.”

Nimble sailors fingers undid the rope work that he had already started, pulling the knot back out and lifting the loops over her slender shoulders. She laughed when he flipped her around, pulling her wrists behind her lower back.

“You can still summon a little bit without ‘em crossed, yeah?” He asked low into her ear.

“Just a few, not nearly as many,” the woman hummed.

“Good. I still need them.”

She squirmed.

The rope connected back to her skin, wrapping back and forth around her wrists, now. He knelt to kiss each of her fingers and then up the length of one arm. Both legs of the chord were brought to her torso and wrapped around her stomach, before meeting at her navel and hitched securely. The man stood, sucking and biting the soft flesh between her shoulder and her neck. One strand twisted in each set of fingers, his big hands skimmed parallel up the center of her chest. Robin’s dark hair was gently brushed to one side. The ropes came over her shoulders and were fixed in a tight knot behind her head.

They twisted once more, back under her restrained arms, and then forward again. Franky turned her around, focusing once more on her front half. The strands were pulled around her bust, looping into the central lines that ran up the middle of her body. He tied each one with two strong hitches just between collar and breast. Then the rope skewed again, over her back, around to her front, and fixed again with much smaller hitches beneath her bosom. The man liked the way the tension of the rope made her tits splay, and let himself have a minute to lower his mouth and suck on each dark nipple.

“You sure are taking your time for a man who says he’s very busy,” she teased, though her eyes rolled with the sensation of his tongue.

“You think I’m gonna have anything less than full pride in my work?” The big man ran a finger down the lines he’d already strung, sending a shiver down her spine. He pulled one length of the rope between her legs, simply to draw friction across her aching clit.

The demon moaned, “mmmmmm well-.”

“Stop talking, I can’t get distracted.”

“Oh, but that’s no-“

“I said stop talking.”

“But-“

“If you keep talking, I’ll have to gag you.”

Robin thought about the proposition for a long moment, looking down at the man still kneeling on the floor. She flashed a fiendish smile.

“So what if-.”

“No,” he stood back up, “Stay right here. Do not move. Do you understand me?”

“Ye-.”

“Stop talking. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

The tall shipwright walked away without a second glance. The moment he had rounded the crates, the devil woman took three steps to the left and one step forward. He returned within seconds, a small serrated knife in his hands.

“What the fuck did I say?” He pointed a big hand, “back where you were.”

“This is where I was,” she giggled.

“No it fucking wasn’t.”

The cyborg picked her up by the waist with ease and moved his lover back into position. Then, he grabbed the second bundle of rope, casting it over the floor in big unraveled loops. He put the knife between his teeth as he counted out a certain length at one end of the chord, finding the desired distance and slicing through the strands.

“Put this on that crate over there for me,” he ordered, and she brought out just enough hands to take the knife from him.

“I thought you didn’t want my-“

“I said stop talking. You’re distractin’ me,” he warned one last time. His thumb found her chin, pulling it to drop open. One last stern kiss pressed to her mouth, tongue slipping a little too deep. She groaned as he tugged on the unfinished knots around her chest. Lips released and tongue withdrew, replaced by the soft taste of rope. Two loops wrapped through her mouth and over her jaw, tied off behind her head.

“If it’s too much, you tell me here,” the cyborg tapped the space under his ear where she always spawned her lips. “But I need your energy elsewhere, so don’t talk unless it’s necessary. Understand me?”

She nodded.

“Good. Good. You’re doing such a good job for me, thank you.”

He ran a hand through her hair, landing back on the nape of her neck. The two different knots were secured together with the tails of the gag, pulling her head back so she was locked looking up slightly at him. Then the chords were brought down her back, weaving through the few bindings he’d already established and securing tightly into the ropes around her arms. Gag secure, he turned his attention back to her front.

The pattern of knots continued. She had been right, he was taking his time. Franky kissed over hot skin, then wrapped the same territory in tight binding. Back and forth he crossed her chest, pulling loops through the middle lines, securing his rigging into place, and then returning to connect in the back. His hitches were strong and sure, muscle memory from decades of securing mooring. Tight, but not painful. A cocoon of fiber crocheted over tan skin.

Once he reached her waist again, he paused and grabbed the second line of cable. The rope was brought low on her hips, twisting over her pelvic bone and in between each of her thighs. Two big, sturdy knots were placed just above each hip indent, and each of the two tails followed a respective leg. Franky dropped to his knees again to kiss her hips, her thighs, her knees. His big hands traced back and forth over her skin as he crossed the cable around her, loop after loop. Knots on her left leg crossed to the underside of her ass, forming a snug harness. The rest of the length was wrapped around the squishy bit of her upper thigh, ending in one final twisted burl.

Her right thigh received greater attention. Decorations of pretty little crosses and buds were tied over her skin, ending at her knee. Metallic fingers traced over the negative space of the flesh that bulged slightly under the tight fixture. He sucked at the gaps in the netting, bruising the hot skin of her inner thigh. Her legs shook, knees appearing that they might give way any moment under the stimulation.

Franky smiled and stood. He tied one final set of knots on the low point of her back, securing the first set of ropes to the second. Occipital sensors gave his work a once over, warm with pride and lust.

“I’m outta rope, gonna go get more. Do. not. move.”

Robin giggled behind the gag. The cyborg had just barely disappeared behind the crates when she took a step forward. He immediately leaned back to look at her again, scowling.

“I knew you were going to do that. You’re payin’ for it once I return.”

Her hips shook with excitement. All alone, she tested the limits of her restriction. Nothing hurt, but his ties were executed to super-human precision. Getting out of a bind was usually easy with her abilities, but these restraints were laced with passion for the craft.

Footsteps marked the shipwright’s return and he held up two more bundles of cable. Dark eyes inspected the exposed steel H-bars that supported the catwalk just above their heads. He nodded, doing quick math in his mind for weight and force. Each new chord was cut in half to make four total shorter lengths.

“How ya feel? Want me to keep goin’?” He checked, pulling gently on the knot above her heart. She whined and nodded as best as she could with her head pulled back. A free third hand popped up, gave a quick thumbs up, before disappearing like the spring.

“Good. Good. You’re so fuckin’ stunning. Now, I can’t have you walkin’ around as soon as I turn my back again. Gotta keep you in place here. Got it? I got a lot of work to finish.”

He threw the first rope over the metal beam. The man hitched the sides of the cord together and then attached it sturdily into the array of knots scattered over her stomach. Big hands pulled like he was bringing in the sails, lifting her just a few inches off the ground. Second and third cables were similarly secured to parallel beams and trussed along the ropes around her shoulders. These were left a little more slack, allowing her to lean back and put her weight on all three supports. Six total strands twisted over her stomach and back, blending seamlessly into her chrysalis.

The last segment went up, the furthest away from the other two. Franky tied one final set of heavy knots, joining the vertical strand with the spiderweb that laced around her right knee. This one was pulled with more force, lifting the woman’s leg almost parallel to her reclined head. One foot raised high, one dangled with toes just barely swinging above the ground.

“Alright, I don’t think you can get out of that now,” the man laughed, giving her a slight push to glide back and forth. He took a big step back, inspecting perfect handiwork. The engineer ran one last check on the suspension. Eyes following the lines of every rope. He nodded, feeling pretty good about himself and his creation.

“Feels alright?” He asked, trying to keep his tone even despite his genuine concern.

Robin’s eyes squinted with a smile and she wiggled just a bit under the restraints.

“Alright, I wanna hear you say it,” Franky tapped the space under his ear.

“Feels amazing,” her lips whispered and then disappeared.

“Thank you. Good. You look so fucking good. And you’re not going anywhere.”

A big hand drew a line down her bare middle, making her vibrate. He lingered just a short distance away from her now exposed sex. Fingers twitched like he was about to make contact, but then the man stopped himself.

“I’m getting distracted. Got a lot of work to finish up. I’ll be back when I’m ready for you,” he smiled, kissing her bangs. She whined, shifting in the air. The heightened anguish made him laugh.

“‘Kay, bye!” He waved and walked over to a little utility faucet against the wall. Big, hard working palms rinsed off in the cold water, and he took his shirt off to wipe them dry.

“Oh!” Franky froze as he walked by her one last time, “I’ve decided to be nice enough to let you play along too. You get two eyes. No more. Not ten, not a thousand. Two to watch me, and you can pick where they go. But I wanna see ‘em. Do not bring out any hands. If I catch you touching yourself, I will not fuck you. Do you understand me?”

She whined, betraying that her plan had been foiled. Her lover took one last, distracted glance at her displayed vulva and smiled to himself in concession.

“Okay, actually? Here’s what I want,” Franky held up a wide left palm, drawing a line through the center with the fingers of his other hand, “I want your pussy here. Can you grow that for me? Just one.”

Her flower bloomed right where he’d indicated.

“Thank you, very well done. You’re not so bratty when you’re all tied up. Good.”

She glowed at the praise and relaxed further into the seat. The man traced his palm again, gently lingering over her flowering labia. He raised his hand to his big mouth and licked the soft skin, making the woman in the swing bite hard on the rope in her mouth. He laughed with his whole chest and swirled his tongue once over her clit.

“Alright. That takes care of my distractions. Have fun, see you in a little bit!”

The cyborg walked away with a deep chuckle and a dance in his step, knowing he was going to get absolutely no work done.

It didn’t take long for Robin to begin shifting under the restraints. She wasn’t uncomfortable with the rope, she was uncomfortable because she wasn’t being touched enough. Franky was taking his time. Her eye watched him paint, taking characteristic effort to get the details just right. His left hand stayed curled behind his bare back. Every few minutes he would tighten his fist, letting the tips of his digits just barely tickle against her. He never quite touched the right angles on her clit, never dove deeper. It felt like torture. Surely, this was revenge for every time she’d kept him just at the edge.

Every agonizing decade, if she was lucky, he would kiss her. When she was very lucky, he let his tongue delve deep. She wasn’t very lucky as often as she would have liked.

The little radio still played, drowning out any of her cries from behind the gag. Occasionally, the cyborg would look over his shoulder and stare her right in the eye. One time, she got very, very lucky and he looked right at her as he drank deep. Before she could register the sensation, he stopped and got back to work with a laugh.

It had to have been more than an hour, she decided. Franky had to be lying about how much time had passed. He finished one task and readied the next, arranging the pilots’ chairs and jump seats. His big body sat in the drivers position, reclining with his feet up on the dash. The man hummed along to the music and finally, finally began to trace her with his other hand.

The touch wasn’t a lot, it was gentle and quiet, but fuck did it make her shake after the anticipation.

“I want you to tell me when you’re close,” his fried voice called through the dark. She didn’t answer, but the eye on the sub’s ceiling blinked in response.

His big tongue met her again, focusing much of his attention on her throbbing clit. A big finger slid slowly into her, fucking into his own palm. He would have thought it was the weirdest thing he’d ever done during sex, but it had been a pretty intense week.

“I remember you liked this a lot,” he raised her to his face again, letting her clit rub down the exposed, buzzing metal of his nose. A choked scream drifted from behind the crates. That made the cyborg laugh even harder.

His finger sped up, his lips and nose alternating sending jolts through her hanging body. Direct eye contact connected his eyes to her’s. A second finger slid deep. A zip of electrons arced into her clit.

Another muffled shout floated through the empty warehouse.

“You better tell me, don’t hide it. I’ll be so mad if you come right now without telling me.”

He licked her again, lips whispering the lyrics of the song on the radio into her phantom cunt.

“I- I gah- mmmm- I-“ a mouth gasped in his ear.

“What are you trying to say? If you’re going to use your mouth, you need to also use your words,” he teased and then returned to sucking her. Teeth nibbled lightly. Iron fingers twisted. Bzzt. Bzzzzzzt. Bzzzzzzzzzt.

“I’m close,” she moaned. He lowered his hand from his face.

Both fingers pulled out of his hand and he held them up to the lips near his ear. She licked herself off of him from a distance, moaning for him to hear.

The touch never returned. Mounting frustration made Robin scream into the gag in an entirely different way. Franky stood back up out of the chair and wiped his fingers off with a smirk into the ghostly eye.

Eons later, he squat in front of the headlights, attempting to connect copper cables with one hand. The cyborg frowned, trying to decide how to proceed when the task proved fruitless. His eyes got stuck on the painful erection straining against his swimsuit.

“Hangin’ in there?” Franky joked to an eye.

It blinked, hazy and dull, kept on the cusp of release but never allowed to reach it.

“Good. I’m in a pretty fuckin’ super nice mood myself, actually,” he laughed and stood to stretch, boner poking just over the top of his briefs.

The eye blinked again, very slowly.

He walked around the machine and back to the alcove where he’d left his dangling lover. Robin’s eyes were closed, body limp and relaxed like she was having a lovely rest.

“You’re not asleep, are you? Am I boring you?” Franky asked directly.

She shook her head slightly.

“Good,” he chuckled, licking his palm just once. The body woke with an involuntary twitch.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, her nose, her bottom lip under the gag.

“You’ve been waiting so patiently. I’m not done yet, but I am going to give you a little reward for being so good. You haven’t touched yourself yet, have you?”

The demon’s head shook again.

“Good. I’m going to fuck you, now. And if you’re very good I’ll even fuck you a second time. Got that?”

Robin nodded vigorously, or at as vigorous as she could get with her head tied back.

Two big thumbs hooked on the hem of the cyborg’s swimsuit. He didn’t even bother taking the garment off, just slipped his big dick out to rest over the top band. Mechanical hands held her hips firm, fingers tight around the ropes, as he pushed deep inside her.

The woman groaned behind her mouth restraint. Franky brushed her clit just enough to keep her energized as he pumped. The ropes kept her body’s momentum flowing and his strong arms made her feel fully weightless.

It didn’t take long at all. The man had been riding the knife’s edge just as much as she had. Every thrust felt blinding, like a bright light in the dark warehouse. He bucked deeper and deeper into her. Release felt like victory, filling her up, overflowing, spilling onto the concrete.

“Oh, so you do have the capacity to finish quick,” Robin quipped in his ear.

“I’m sorry, who told you could do that? Nah, now you’re definitely not coming yet,” he frowned, pulling out slowly.

The devil strained, writhing in the crafted net. Real words emanating from behind the gag sounded like, “please.”

“Nope! Not changing my mind. I’ll see you again in a little bit. And you can release my palm, I’m done with it.”

“No!” She cried directly in his ear.

“Oh? What did you say?”

“Please.”

He pretended to think for a moment.

“Fine. Since I’m such a super nice guy, here’s what I’ll offer. You take your pussy off of my hand. But I’ll let you bring out a third arm. And I’ll leave my dick here, and you can keep it warm for me. Does that sound good?”

Pink petals replaced the pink folds in his hand. The cyborg smiled down at the contorted body. He was already stiff enough to penetrate again, between the artificial blood flow and prefabricated lubricant. There was a hydraulic hissing sound as he grabbed the release points, sealing the pressure and removing his hard cock. The appendage slid right back into her leaking lips, making the woman grit her teeth on the rope in her mouth.

“How’s that feel?” He asked, watching her face with intent.

His lover nodded quickly. A third hand grew from her tacky skin to hold his appendage steady.

“Good. Now keep that there. Hell, you can even fuck yourself with it, if you promise to be good and not come. Understood?”

Nod.

“Alright. Oh, and the way it works, there’s a little interface chip in there. It won’t come until it’s hooked back up, but all the contact input gets built up. So when I put it on again, I’m feeling everything you do all at once. Try not to kill me, okay?”

The new hand secured around the base and started to slowly thrust the mechanical member into the river of lubricant. She smiled around the chord and gave him a look through hooded eyes that said she was absolutely planning on trying her best to take him out in one quick blow.

There were worse ways to die.

“I’ve got some super serious electrical work to get done, so I gotta stay focused, alright? But I’ll be back for that soon. Have fun!”

The cyborg turned around and once again left her alone to work without distraction.

The glass slid right into place. Pressurized gaskets fit snug. Last minute rivets and welds tightened everything together. Franky wouldn’t be able to test if it was watertight until the checks the next morning, but it all seemed fine from the outside. He peeled off the protective film, admiring his work. Everything looked super good, he had to admit.

A finished sub in six hours. It made him feel accomplished.

His mind went to the unfinished sub on the other side of the warehouse.

“You’ve been at it for a while, you sure you didn’t come yet?” He yelled.

She didn’t answer.

The cyborg gave the vessel one more check and threw a shop rag over his bare shoulder. Time to retrieve his dick and, if everything went how he was expecting, have the climax of his fucking life.

The sight of her when he rounded the corner made him weak in the knees. The woman trembled violently, shaking above the ground. She dripped sweat and cum and spit onto the floor, puddle growing by the moment. Her one free hand never ceased, thrusting his dick faster and further with each snap of her wrist. Eyes were squeezed shut in focus, and she took deep breaths around the gag to keep herself even.

The sloppy sound of her fucking herself was loud enough that she didn’t notice the man approach. One of his big hands found her shoulder, the other on her stomach. She jumped at the contact, almost screaming.

He growled near her ear, “You’ve got something of mine, I want it back. But fuck, you look so good like this. You did a beautiful job taking your time.”

The cyborg ran a hand through her sweat slicked hair and down her shivering body. He caressed her cheek softly, checking in. “Still feel alright?”

She nodded, though there were tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Good. You did such a fantastic job. I was gonna make you wait, but you look so good I should just finish you off now. Do you want that?”

Robin moaned against the big hand holding her face.

“Alright. Good. Keep me in you, keep doin’ what you were doin. And I want you back on my hand, got it?” Franky held his palm up. She blossomed across his skin once more. He traced her lips and took a few steps back to lean nonchalantly against a wall of crates.

“Thank you, you’re doing such a good job,” he smiled. “If I had all my dicks with me I’d probably use ‘em to fill the rest of you too. And you got no limit, you could grow as many as you needed. A mouth and a pussy and an asshole for every attachment I’ve got. You’re a little fuckin’ freak. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He licked the little cunt in his palm, electricity whizzing through her nerves. She gasped in front of him, her mouth fighting against the rope. The third hand sped up, momentum of her fucking herself making the whole rope apparatus swing.

“You’ve been waiting for a very, very long time,” he said, lips to phantom lips. A slight sheen formed on his cheekbones and the high points of his lips as he ran her over his face. “I like having you this way. Is this what you do when you’re all alone? Do you eat your own pussy just like this?”

Muffled shouts leaked from the gag. He was almost tempted to release it just to hear her beautiful cries. Almost.

“So good. So fuckin’ beautiful,” the man whispered, rolling his tongue over her hard clit.

Robin whined, tied wrists straining behind her.

“I’m going to need you to finish soon, I want my cock back. You’ve had it for a very long time and I’m getting a bit jealous. So you’re gonna come.”

The woman moaned. Her raised leg shook, ropes banging on the steel beam.

“Ay, look at me,” he called. The demon’s eyes flew open, looking for her lover with urgency. His vicious glance returned, smiling over the tops of his fingertips. He pulled another long lick up her slit and around her aching clitoris. The final thrust of his cock under her hand was desperate and delicious.

“Now.”

Robin’s head flew back, ropes pulling around her heaving bust. The leg floating just above the ground seized to mirror the one suspended. The gag kept her moans quiet, but not quiet enough. Franky savored watching her twist in her bindings as her cunt tightened around both his tongue and around his dick. A very long-awaited orgasm sent shiver after shiver through her cocoon, like she was moments away from bursting out with iridescent wings.

“Beautiful, absolutely fucking stunning. Well done. Good job,” the man kept repeating. The lips in his palm turned to petals after one final caress and he crossed the space to stand behind her head. Franky lowered himself to kiss her forehead and stroke her cheeks. Dark hair hung limply, bangs plastered flat.

Robin pulled him out of her with a pop and a proud grin around soaked ropes. She offered the member back to the man, slowly reopening her exhausted eyes to see him upside down. He let go of her face with one final stroke and walked around the rigging to stand between her legs. Mechanical fingers wrapped around his giant cock.

“That looked so fuckin’ fun, now I’m definitely envious. Where do you want me to finish?” He pointed at her chest, then her face, then her cunt.

The demon shifted in a way that made her breasts bounce.

“Yeah, okay, that can be arranged” he smiled, lining his hips up against hers, but aiming his dick a little higher.

“This is gonna be kinda intense, I don’t really know what’s gonna happen. Never done it like this before. So if I drop, you got permission to use as many hands as you can grow to catch me. I don’t wanna hurt you,” Franky warned and wiped a lingering tear from her eye. She nodded with the weight of the world behind her lashes.

“Okay, reconnecting in three, two, one.”

The cyborg’s dick clicked back into place. Every pent up sensory input hit his nervous relays all at once. He screamed. The orgasm slammed into each cell in his body like a… his mind when totally blank before he could think of an apt metaphor.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

A white hot sun seared his flesh. He could taste iron in his mouth. A chip in his brain stem crashed, a few key fuses blew, and he lost all sense functions very, very quickly. The last thing his eyes captured were the eyes of his lover, bound but concerned for him. An afterimage of her face burned itself permanently onto darkened retinas.

His hearing went next, the sounds of the dock yard fading to a high pitched whistle. White noise. A wine glass ringing in an empty bar. Ears popping in the deep end of the pool. The tinnitus of club music.

Then, his sense of smell failed. Oil and flowers and cloves and sloppy fucking sex, all disappeared all at once. Nothing replaced it but the metal in his mouth. No buzzing, no flow. The iron, he realized, was the taste of his own tongue. The front half stopped working altogether. He lost the near-constant taste of sugar and the lingering taste of her. All that remained was the bits of original muscle deep in the back of his throat.

Franky couldn’t see it, but he could feel his fingers finally crash. He lost the sensation of her skin under his palm. Mechanical digits relaxed back to useless scrap. One of Robin’s hands gripped his bicep tight, he could feel that, at least. Then, another squeezed his thigh. His knees buckled, hydraulics in his calves failing and leaving a quarter ton of steel on two tiny stilts. The man could feel himself start to tip forward, but more hands pressed against him, encouraging the cyborg to fall on the ground at her side. He wasn’t sure where he was landing, but his face hit the cold concrete with a smack. At least, he knew it was cold when shaky hands did their best to turn him over onto his back.

Hearing off. Mouth slack. Hands itching. He tried screaming, but no sound came out. Panic filled his chest as he realized he couldn’t move anything or communicate in any way. Tears welled behind unblinking eyes.

Robin shook in her bindings. She tried to scream his name but her mouth was still full. Her eyes were wide in terror and fixed to the body on the floor. Panic ripped at her lungs. And she was absurdly fucking sticky.

A plan, she needed a plan. It was useless hanging like this. The little blade he’d used to cut the ropes still sat on a nearby crate. One limb blossomed and she tossed the knife onto the concrete near her legs. A few hands passed the tool back. An eye on the floor to watched from a better angle. A short daisy chain lifted the blade and she sawed through her restraints. It wasn’t her first time escaping from having her hands bound, though generally it was in much different contexts.

The archeologist flexed her sore wrists, massaging them quickly before taking the knife from herself. She brought the blade up to the back of her head, cutting the gag away next.

Desperate breaths left her lips. She flexed her jaw and turned her head, finally able to get a better look at the situation next to her.

The big, boisterous man wasn’t moving. His eyes were blank, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey! Hey, Franky, can you hear me?!” Robin yelled frantically. This wasn’t nearly as funny as when he hadn’t been able to hear her that morning. The cyborg didn’t answer. He looked dead.

Hands began to multitask. One sprouted on his shoulder, checking his jugular for a pulse. It was faint, but there was something. The rope holding her leg aloft was sliced clean through. Robin still couldn’t touch the ground yet but she wasn’t far.

A palm checked his open mouth. Hot, shaky breath hit her hand. There was air filling his lungs and blood pumping in his heart. He didn’t respond to snaps in his ears or a wave in front of his eyes, though.

“Come on, wake up!” She screamed. The cable bearing most of her weight in the middle released and she dropped to the floor, almost immediately slipping in the puddle she’d created. The two ropes on her shoulders kept her upright as Robin steadied herself. The archeologist turned as the last supports were finally cut. As soon as she was free, she plummeted to the ground next to the big body.

“Franky, look at me. I need you to say something, come on!” She pleaded, now down at his level. Up close to his skin, she could see the little streams that traveled from his eyes into his sideburns. He was crying, he was breathing, his heart was beating. Franky wasn’t dead, at least not yet. The demon didn’t have time to feel relieved.

She put her ear to his chest. A rabbit’s heartbeat drummed, but no other mechanics whirred. Two blossomed fingers slid down the exposed metal in the middle of his face. No buzz. No flow. Whatever happened took his whole system out. Many hands reached out from the ground to gently squeeze anywhere he could still feel- the back of each shoulder, his biceps, the squishy part of his thighs, the ribs behind his waist. No matter where he was, he’d know she was with him.

Robin stood on shaky legs, torso still bound tight but significantly more mobile between the two of them. She opened the little latch on his abdomen. The fuel was completely empty. That gave her the first problem to solve. Two more phantom limbs tucked his member back into his swimsuit for dignity. 

“Stay right here, don’t move,” the archeologist commanded, sprinting back through the crates to where he had been working earlier. There wasn’t a lot of stock left, but he’d left one spare bottle and a half finished drink around the messy station. Phantom hands grabbed each glass and held them out to her as she ran by, trying her best to not trip on any trailing ropes.

He hadn’t moved an inch when she returned. The full bottle was slipped into his fridge, replacing an empty vessel. One of her hands tossed the old glass to the side a little too forcefully and it shattered on the concrete. Many, many more hands sprouted under him, palms on his back. They pushed him up at an angle and kept his head forward. Robin straddled his hips as carefully as she could and tipped the drink into his open mouth. She held his jaw in one hand, trying to close it just a bit so that the fuel could funnel down the back of his throat. The next minutes were agony as she tried again and again to get the lukewarm cola to flow into the frozen machine.

Franky wished he could shake with anger, or at least move literally anything. Nothing seemed to work. He was scared. He’d left Robin in a particularly tight situation, one that he knew he wouldn’t want to be trapped in himself. It had been irresponsible, impulsive. He didn’t know how long he lay in the dark, no sight, no sound. A hand glanced over the back of his neck. Then another on his shoulder. Then many, many more held onto his biceps and thighs. Robin was there. She saw him. He couldn’t respond back, but she was checking. Relief washed over him. He wasn’t alone, she wasn’t restrained.

All the limbs disappeared, but it was alright. Another long moment passed on the cold floor, but he guessed she was gone no longer than a few minutes. Suddenly, all her hands returned to push him up with incredible strength. Something somewhere clicked into place.

Caramel, lemon, and clove washed down the back of his tongue. Oh, she was so smart, he loved her so much. The drink was a little warm, a little flat, but he wasn’t about to complain. The comforting taste spread down his throat, through his heart, to his belly. Sensors started waking back up very, very slowly. The flavor of her sex returned too, and he groaned at the memory of what had knocked his systems out in the first place.

He’d come so hard he’d almost died.

Lithe fingers drummed down his back. Robin had felt the rumble in his chest. That was good. Things were starting to work again. Smell came back next. Flowers. Honeysuckles, oil, violets, and a lot of funk. The thick air of sex that hung like a cloud in front of his face.

“Franky, I need you to stay with me. Come on now, I need you to say something if you can. You’re going to be alright, I’ve got you, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you way too much to let you die like this. Come on. Say something, please.”

Robin’s voice sounded muffled, like she was shouting the words underwater. The glass was brought to his lips again. His tongue barely met the opening to sip the dark drink down.

Hey, now, what did she just say?

Feeling returned to his mouth again, lips tingling. He tried to move his jaw but it was still tight. A second attempt didn’t change much. The cyborg realized it was her hands that kept his mouth shut, not his inability to open it. He pressed down a little harder in a third try. Lips parted. She interpreted that as a queue to pour more cola down his throat. Not what he’d been going for, but not unwelcome.

He tried to move his mouth a fourth time, jaw softening and tongue pressing just a little out. She interpreted that as a queue to kiss him. Her joy washed over the both of them. The man tried blinking next, focusing on the way the wet tears stung his dried out occipital sensors. He squinted slightly, then halfway. Finally, his eyes closed. Franky could still see the image of her disheveled, worried expression burned into his eyelids. When he opened them again softly, a very blurry face looked very much the same, like a double exposure. Concerned blue eyes. Dark hair. Deep frown. Incredibly naked. Her chest still partially bound. Straddling his lap.

“Franky? Franky! Can you hear me?!”

She looked so worried.

Had he heard her wrong? The words were so foggy, but she’d said she’d loved him, just a minute ago. There was no other word that could have sounded like that. Not in that sentence, at least.

He blinked twice, slowly. Each time, his vision drew clearer. Words sounded crisper. Shit, they really smelled like sex, ay?

His mouth could move enough that he was able to lick his dry lips. The last test was the voice box. He cleared his throat. Fried vocal folds reverberated deep. A hum. Yeah, that worked.

“I- I think I broke m’ dick,” Franky mumbled slowly, trembling words barely escaping.

Robin laughed in relief. Oh, it was so beautiful.

“I think your dick broke you,” she corrected, not hiding any of her lingering stress. Hands wrapped around his head and she squeezed him into a comforting hug. Her face buried in his hair. His face was buried in her bosom.

“Can you move? Can you hear me?” The woman asked more questions, though her tone had grown more gentle than desperate.

“Can’t move m’ limbs. Bu’ I can ‘ear ya. ‘Ow long wuzz I out fer?”

Hands raked through his hair. Kisses popped in his ears.

“Five minutes, at most,” she spoke softly and close.

“S’per. Yeah. Cool,” his voice still sounded weak and fragile, like it came from a whole different person. Many strong hands kept him propped at an angle.

“How do we get your arms working again?” Robin asked.

The reality of what needed to be done to get him working properly made him laugh.

“Heh, we’re ‘bout-ta make all ya wildest dreams come true, bay-bee.”

He felt drunk. He didn’t even like drinking all that much. The world swam.

“What do you need?” The archeologist peered down, worry still lingering in her brow.

“Gotta reset a coup’la breakers.”

“Just flip a few switches? I can do that.”

“Yeah, ya can. But it’s uhhhhh in here,” he said, trying to gesture at his chest before realizing that was the issue to begin with.

“In- but you said…” she froze. Frowned. Pulled back. Stared at his chest.

“Yeah. I know wha’ I said. Buh I need yer help. Please, please, please be super careful, ‘kay?” Franky tried to knit his brow and frown. He wasn’t sure how successfully he had emoted.

“O- oh. Alright. Sure.” The devil woman tried to hide her personal excitement for the sake of the serious situation.

“Kay. I’ll talk ya through it. Lay me flat,” he guided. The hands began to lower him back onto the floor. “Cool. Now you’re gonna find a couple lil divots on each side- two on m’ clavicle, two under m’ arms, two under m’ bottom ribs. Yeah?”

Six fingers found their marks.

“Press in,” there was a clicking sound, “Good, yeah. ’S gonna come off in two halves, left ’n right plates.”

A light hiss filled the air. The seam appeared down the middle of his breastbone. She lifted each portion of his plating off and set them gingerly on the ground.

“Oh,” Robin whispered, looking down at his exposed under-wiring.

“Fin’lly getta see me naked,” the cyborg laughed. She didn’t look nearly so amused. Wide eyes stared at the tangled fusion of flesh and machinery. The woman in his lap gulped.

“I know it’s-.”

“It’s magnificent,” she said softly. A hand couldn’t help itself. Light fingers ran over cardiomechanical neurointerfacing and his interelectrical musculature subsystem. Strands of silvery wire intertwined with pink muscle, like veins of precious ore deep in the earth. Many of the gears looked almost reminiscent of a well crafted watch, placed with care and precision. His heart beat in the center, flowing into arteries both natural and artificially fused. Lungs peeked out from behind ribs that melded bone and steel.

“Please don’t touch my organs.”

The archeologist fought the primal urge to prod his heart. She stayed transfixed, eyes following wires through the labyrinth.

“‘Kay so you’re looking for- hey, are you listening?- It’s in the middle, under my sternum. Little door, see it?”

Robin leaned in closer to get a good look.

“Oi, oi, oi! Pull your hair back, it’s gonna get caught when this whole thing gets moving.”

An extra hand wrapped around her blunt locks and held them away from the machinery.

“So, you see it?”

“Yes,” she answered, “Just this door here?”

“Yeah, open it,” Franky instructed, unable to move his head enough to look at what she was doing.

“Open.”

“‘Kay. ’S like any other breaker box. How many switches are out of place?”

“Two, I think.”

“Sounds about right. All ya gotta do is click em back to match the others, and then back away quick. Shut the door and then get your hands outta there, shit’s gonna start movin’ almost immediately,” the cyborg instructed, trying to keep his voice as confident as he could make it.

“Alright. Yes. Flip the switched, close the door, back away,” she copied.

“Great. Ready?”

“Three, two-“

Both breakers popped back into place. Everything began to whir and twist, roaring back to life. Franky howled as the electric flow returned to his limbs. Pain was always his least favorite part of a reset. Many blossomed hands tried to keep him still as he writhed, but he shook. His hips bucked involuntarily, stored memory of their final action overriding control.

Robin fell forward, hands instinctively bracing herself where his pecs would have been, trying her best to avoid landing on his heart. Pulsating filament and hefty cogs twisted around her slight fingers and there was an ungodly snapping noise. She screamed. Both arms turned to petals against her will. The demon used her real arms to push off of his lap and scramble back.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?!” Franky shot straight up, shaking his right hands to clear the pins and needles.

The woman sat a few feet away, cupping a trembling hand. Blood trickled from the side of her pinky finger, dripping down her forearm and off her elbow.

“Did you break something?” He looked at her with the utmost concern.

“No- I mean yes, I felt them break but it doesn’t- my hands don’t work like that. It’s just a cut.”

“Uh, no. You still felt both your hands breaking! And you’re bleeding super bad!”

“Just a scratch. Promise,” she mumbled, eyes still transfixed watching him move. Everything shifted under his big structure as he tried to stand. Robin’s eyes were hypnotized by each subtle whir and each relayed component. All she wanted to do was reach out again, claw her way back inside, regardless of the risk.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you lookin’ at it. Shit, especially when we fuck. I don’t want you gettin’ hurt like this again!”

“I’m fine, really! It's just a little cut!”

“No you aren’t!”

“You don’t know what’s fine for me! I’m telling you, I’ve felt worse! And I’ll do that again if it helps you recover! I’d do it every time you need it!”

Franky scoffed in disbelief and slowly walked over to the crate where he’d left his shop rag. He handed the cloth to her, watching it turn crimson with her blood.

“Thank you for your help, it will not happen again,” he said stiffly, not really looking at her.

“I don’t care if it happens again, I wanted to help you. You needed help!”

She caught one last glimpse of his throbbing heart before he turned around to pick up the pieces of his chest.

“I appreciate it. It will not happen again,” the cyborg repeated firmly. His strong, prominent jaw set tight. Metal plates clicked back into place, trapping a few loose petals within his body forever.

Robin didn’t say anything, frowning at the ground. Blood soaked through the rag, staining the fingers of her other hand. She nodded once and then shifted to roll onto her knees and stand up. One of the ropes still binding her body twisted around her ankle and she tripped forward.

Two big hands caught her shoulders before she hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” Franky asked, concern overriding his self-directed anger.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

“It’s my turn to help you, now. Lemme help you get outta that, then we’ll patch your hand up. Sounds good?”

“… Sure.”

“Howdja get your hands free?” He asked, softening substantially. Recalibrating fingers traced the ropes over her shoulders, looking for a good starting point to untie her.

“Knife,” she gestured with her bleeding hand to the blade left on the floor.

“Super smart thinkin’. Same with the gag?”

She nodded. The man leaned down and kissed her wrist. Then, he raised on shaking knees to kiss each corner of her mouth. His hands found one of the short tails of rope and followed it through to the first knot, pulling it even more gingerly than he had when he’d secured them.

“I can usually get through most knots pretty well, I’ve been escaping these sorts of things for a long time,” Robin started to say.

“‘These sorts of things?’ Oh?” He chuckled softly, picking at another loop.

“I mean kidnappings.”

“Ahhhhh, super different.”

“But your ties were too strong.”

“Could you imagine if I was a shipwright with weak ass knots? They’d laugh me outta town.”

“Are you?”

“Laughed outta town? Every fuckin’ day.”

“No, I mean a shipwright? Would you consider yourself one?”

The ropes around her shoulders slackened.

“Uhhhhh not any more, usually. But right now? Yeah. Makin’ you a ship, ain’t I? Comin’ outta retirement, just for you,” he laughed and kissed her cheek.

“Do you enjoy it, though?”

“Oh, I’ve been so fuckin’ happy lately. But it kinda seems like the lesson this week. The stuff that makes me the happiest is always the stuff I gotta give up. ’S just not in the cards for me. I’m kinda an unlucky dude.”

Franky looked down at her through long eyelashes. She still stared at her hand, trying to slow the bleeding.

“I don’t think you’re unlucky. I think you’re incredibly lucky,” the woman muttered.

“Glad you think so,” He smiled. Kisses were pecked into her bangs, her cheekbones, her ears. Calloused fingers still untangled the demon, one twist at a time. He followed the lines and contours of the sturdy rope, no longer fumbling blind.

Robin finally shook out of her dissociation and kissed him back properly. Two extra hands, uninjured, wrapped around his neck. His eyes were alive again- warm and soft and full of love.

“Maybe I was born under a lucky star, after all,” the cyborg whispered against her lips.

“Quite possibly.”

Then Franky’s luck shifted again, proving his original hypothesis correct. The bay door to the warehouse rolled up with a groan. Big boots slammed on concrete.

“AY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, MAN?! BURG NEEDED YOU BACK AN HOUR AGO!” A pissed off voice bellowed.

“Shit, who the fuck-“

“It’s Paulie,” Robin’s flared in surprise, looking with a phantom eye at the front entrance. She glanced down at herself, naked and still half covered in bindings.

“Hide!”

The woman looked around for somewhere to go.

“In here,” Franky gestured. He picked her up, lifting her to his shoulder and opening the lid of one of the long-emptied crates. “I’ll be right back, you stay right here. Won’t be super long. Sit tight,” he smiled reassuringly and closed the lid.

“WHERE’D YOU FUCKING GO?! YOU BETTER NOT BE-“

“Oi, oi, oi, who the hell are you screaming at? I’m right here, bro!” The cyborg sprinted back around the corner to where the finished submarine hung in suspension.

“What’s taking so long?!” The blond man demanded.

“Uhhh you ever try to build a high pressure laser submarine in six hours? Shit’s not super easy, dude!” Franky defended himself.

“You’re not off getting distracted, are you?” Paulie asked with a tone of accusation.

“Me? ME?! Distracted? Never, bro. I’m offended you’d think so lowly of me! I’m a super fuckin’ professional!”

The younger man took a look at the completed submersible with a frown and a nod. “Alright. Fine. C’mon, the guys need you back. They’re trying to figure out what you meant with the paddle design, and it’s getting late,” he griped.

“Yeah, alright. Just gimme a minute to wrap up. I had a- uh- small medical issue thing.”

“Shit, man, are you okay? What happened?” Paulie looked almost genuinely worried. For just a moment, it was like he was a little kid again, following the older boys around the island, taking on their own bad habits.

Franky shrugged and started to pick up his scattered tools. Some of his fingers and toes still felt numb from the reset. “Blew a fuse, ‘m fine,” he grumbled.

“You sure? You look like a mess. Put some goddam clothes on. Where’s your fucking shirt?”

“Uhhh I dunno. Somewhere ‘round here.”

The foreman turned around trying to find the rest of the other man’s effects. His eyes caught something, but not what he’d been looking for.

“Are fucking kidding me, man?” He scoffed in disappointment.

“Wha-“ the blue haired man pivoted.

“You wanna tell me what kinda fuse you just blew?” Paulie stood next to a crate, holding out one sleek high heeled sandal.

“I- I- that’s- it- uhhhhh…”

“Oh, sure, try and explain your way out of this. Go ahead,” the blond man held up a pair of small black panties with his eyebrows raised.

“Those are mine,” Franky gulped.

“This too?” The matching bra was lifted.

“Stop touchin’ that shit, bro!”

“I can’t believe you’d lie about a medical emergency, after you lied about everything else! Just to cover your own ass. At least you got the sub finished, but what the hell?! You’re way too fucking distracted! Can’t go a goddam day without fucking something up, can you?!”

“Dude, I didn’t lie about the medical thing!”

“Uh huh, sure,” Paulie said and pulled out his snail.

“What are ya doin’?”

“I’m calling security and telling them to be on the lookout for a six foot tall, dark haired, naked demon woman! We can’t have someone like that wandering around restricted zones!”

“The fuck do you mean by that?! Why you always givin’ her shit, dude?!” Franky was starting to get mad.

“Because she’d bad for you, man! You don’t know anything about her! She’s got your brain all fucked up! We told you, how many times? You said you wouldn’t push this, and then you did anyway. You lied to Iceburg, and you lied to me. You’re just desperate to get laid for the first time since the accident!”

“Do NOT make assumptions about what’s goin’ on between us!”

“Fine!” The foreman yelled, “Then tell me. What is going on between you?! The whole city saw you get practically fucked in front of everyone last night. That was- what- in a friendly kinda way? Your her fucking toy, man! She’s playing with you! How the hell can’t you see it?!”

“That’s not true! She- we’re- It’s not like that!”

“So what is she to you?!”

“I don’t know, bro!” The cyborg screamed.

“Then drop this! Let her go! She leaves town the day after tomorrow. What are you gonna do, chase her out to sea? Are you seriously planning on leaving your whole life behind for a broad you just met?”

“I—!”

“Give me an answer, you asshole!” Paulie yelled right back.

“No!”

“No?”

“No,” Franky’s voice sounded much more sure than his heart actually felt, “She’s taking the ship, she’s sailing off with her crew. Like we always planned it. I’m stayin’ here, and then I’ll take the train outta town.”

“Good. It’ll be better for you this way,” the young man pulled out a cigar, “but you don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”

The cyborg froze, “But ‘Burg said-.”

“Yeah, he told me about your little fucking convo. Said that you were high on some funky shit the whole time, totally tweakin’ when he was trying to talk through important crap. He also said you promised you were keepin’ this to yourself, literally hours before I ran into you two all over each other. What’s your fuckin’ problem, man? This shit’s serious.”

“Burg said I couldn’t pull the same trick twice,” the blue man scowled.

“Uh, yeah. Because the trick you pulled last time was fuckin’ half assed. You didn’t change your identity, you came back with facial reconstructive surgery that you were already planning on getting, and started going by a name that most people already called you. You didn’t change your identity, dude, you just finished another stage of your man shit! He’s not gonna make you do that again after all the work you did to get to where you wanna be!”

Franky froze. It wasn’t the rationale he’d been expecting. “So, what are you sayin’?” He mumbled, crossing his big arms.

Paulie sighed, “We’re offering you a job, man. We lost some good ass workers this week, but you’re even better. You’ve done a great fuckin’ job, when you’ve actually managed to focus. Better than twenty of our best, and wicked fast. Stay on the team. Work for us, keep buildin’ ships. It clearly makes you happy!”

“And if I stay that means-“

“You keep the life you built here. Couple things would have to change, but nothing major. You keep the Family. Maybe rebrand it, rebuild the House under a new name. But you stay with your boys. You’d get to stay with people who actually care about you.”

“What are these couple little changes?” The cyborg asked with a frown.

“Fuck, I dunno! Shave your hair, put on some pants and a normal ass t-shirt, wear some fuckin’ boots to work.”

“No- no way in hell I’m doing that! I lose all this then I lose part of me! I’m not shaving my fuckin’ hair, bro! That’d be like… like killing a part of my soul!”

“Fine!” The foreman yelled again, “If you’re so committed to it, then commit! You wanna be the rebel, be the rebel. But we’re sick of this half assed shit! You can’t save this city and destroy it every other week! Make up your fucking mind, already! It doesn’t matter what we say, you won’t listen, anyway. You always do the opposite. You wanna be a pirate so bad, then go be a goddam pirate! You wanna pick fights with the literal World Government, then you better be ready to put your fuckin’ dukes up!”

Franky felt like duking someone, that was for sure. He stewed in his rage.

Paulie wasn’t done, “That demon woman’s part of this! You’ve known how dangerous she is for decades. She shot Iceburg five times, but it’s like you don’t even give a shit! And you still let yourself get seduced! How fucking weak-willed have you gotten?! You let yourself get dragged around like a sick fucking puppy. You’re whipped, dude! Where the hell did the old Franky go?!”

“He fucking died, bro! I’m not her plaything, I can stop this super easily at any time!”

“Then stop it, now! You’re a morbid fascination for her, she only likes you for your body! She’ll forget you the minute she lands in the next port and finds a different freak on the Grand Line to poke at! And then you’ll be stuck in the New World with a woman who does not care about you any more!”

“STOP talking about Robin that way! She’s not like that!”

“She’s a literal demon, man. A demon you met six days ago. I’m not even shocked you fell for her as fast as you did. Siren song is like, the oldest trick in the book! She’s going to kill you, if you don’t accidentally kill her first with those fucking machine gun mitts.”

Franky hated to admit it, but she’d gotten close just a few minutes before. He’d hurt her just by being alive, too. The machines that kept his vitals pumping had destroyed a part of her. Maybe there was some vague truth to Paulie’s words.

“I-,” Franky’s voice shook, "But I think I lo-.”

“Lo- holy shit. Fucking hell, man, pull yourself together! You’re crying over a woman you just met, talking about how you love her?! Are you kidding me?!”

“But-“

“She doesn’t love you, dude! Why would she love you?! She’s playing with you because she’s bored. She’s sadistic! You think you’re anything more than a big fucking sex toy to her? Or are you seriously so much of a pervert that you’re really okay being reduced down to that?”

“That’s a fucking lie! She wouldn’t-.”

“How the fuck do you know, you barely know the damn woman! You met her on the way to prison. You don’t know anything about her!”

“Shut the FUCK up! You don’t know anything about us!” 

A fuse of a different type was about to blow.

“Us?! Is there more to tell? Does she wove you back?” Paulie mocked.

“I- I don’t know! She didn’t- I couldn’t- it was…”

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought. You’re a fucking fool, Flam. She’s stringing you along, and she’s gonna bite your fucking head off when she’s done with you. Don’t come cryin’ to me when your brain’s gone missing.”

“It’s not like that!”

“Why can’t you see the fucking truth! Are your eyes on the fucking fritz again?! Have you looked at Nico Robin’s rap sheet? She’s a bad person, she’s worked for ever group of bad mother fuckers this side of Paradise. She was behind that destabilizing coup in Alabasta four months ago. That woman’s evil. She’s bad fucking news! That bitch is gonna—.”

The foreman was interrupted by a strong right jab to the jaw. Metal met his face with a loud crack and he fell to the floor. The barely smoked cigar went flying.

“You better shut the fuck up. RIGHT NOW. And get the HELL out of here, before I properly kick your ass. Do NOT talk about her that way. Because guess the fuck what, dickbag? I’m a super fuckin’ bad guy, too, and I will not hesitate to make sure you remember that.” Franky shook, but he felt good. It’d been at least five whole days since he’d gotten a punch that nice in. He hadn’t even used any of his cool tricks, just a solid slug to the asshole’s face.

Paulie scampered to his feet. “You’re gonna regret that,” he hissed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. He balled his fist and tried to throw the punch right back. Squishy flesh met solid, unmoving steel and he immediately crumpled.

“Nah, I don’t think I will,” the cyborg laughed dryly and folded his arms, “Now, do NOT make me repeat myself again. Leave. NOW!”

The blond man flipped him off with both fists, middle finger of his broken hand trembling to stay up.

“I’ll break the other one to even it out if you don’t get moving!”

Damn, three broken hands and a broken dick in one evening. Maybe the demolitions life was calling him back after all. Old work boots turned and the foreman started to make his way back through the crates toward the front door.

“And tell Daddy Iceburg he can shove his war profiteering contract bullshit ass offer up his tight fuckin’ ass! I’m not shavin’ my head, I’m not changing my name, and I don’t make warships for the World fuckin’ Government! You guys aren’t even unionized!” Franky bellowed into the dark.

“You’re throwing a hell of a lot away for this devil, I hope she’s fucking worth it! Or at least I hope she puts you out of your misery quick, you bastard!” Paulie screamed and yanked the warehouse door shut behind him.

“She is,” the cyborg whispered to himself, alone, in the dark. He paused a minute and looked around at the mess of tools still all over the floor. Then, he jolted, remembering the woman in the crate.

His bare feet slapped against the concrete floor as he sprinted back to her hiding spot. Mechanical hands pried the lid open, but the box was empty. He frowned.

“Hey, where the hell’d you go? I’m sorry you had to hear that, I-“

He opened the crates on either side, just assuming he’d checked the wrong one. Nothing. Silence. His stomach churned.

“Where’d you move to, come on out! He’s gone, and he's not comin' back I promise!” Franky yelled into the shadows.

“He’s a fucking dick, and he’s wrong as hell!”

Bleary eyes snapped back to the first box. Something lay in the corner, wet and ribboning like intestines. Big fingers snagged on the form, pulling up a destroyed netting of rope, soaked in sweat and spit and spunk and a lot of blood. The bottom half of the casing had been sawed through. The dull knife sat in the same corner of the crate, wrapped in a bloody shop rag.

“Fuck!” The man screamed, turning wildly to try and find blue eyes in the dark. “Where did you go?!”

He sprinted back to the workstation, desperately searching for a flashlight in his toolbox. The torch clicked on in his hands and he scanned the tops of the tall stacks of crates, hoping to find her sitting on one, legs crossed, chuckling into her fingertips. The light landed on the spot where she’d spent the day in that exact position. Robin’s clothes and shoes had disappeared at some point in his argument with Paulie. He’d been too distracted to notice.

The cyborg brought the light back to the opened crates. He checked around once more for any sign of her, but she’d left no trace. The glare hit the puddle they’d created. He wished he could go back, done things different. He wished he had held her after. He never got to care for her, make sure she felt loved. Instead, he had died, a little bit, and she’d cared for him. And then, he’d accidentally hurt her, in the exact way he knew he would. The memory made him sick to his stomach. Bile and tears rose in his throat. He fucking hated himself for it. 

Maybe Paulie made some good points. None about her, but a few about him. 

“Can you hear me?!" fried voice cracked, "Are you still here? Robin, I need you to say something if you can hear me!”

She did not respond. The beam illuminated a little trail of blood drops that snaked behind the backside of the boxes and back toward the front door. Nico Robin was long gone.

Franky leaned against one of the crates with shaking forearms. He barely kept himself steady as he sobbed alone in the dark, cold, empty warehouse.

Chapter Text

The world around Nico Robin grew dark. She had not noticed at what precise point one day became the next, but she did not particularly care. Her heart folded in on itself, retreated to her deepest crevasses in the wrinkles of her intestines. The strings that wove her organs together began to fray. She dropped like a stone in the water, deeper, deeper, deeper into her own void. An ever-growing abyss choked the oxygen from her lungs.

The world closed in. The sun had long since set.

Blood caked under her nails, but she did not have the will to scrub her skin raw.

Her bunk in the sleeping quarters was lumpy and the sheets were rough, but it consumed her the minute she crawled under the blanket. Nothing else mattered. Her mind ran at the speed of light, though it did not move an inch.

Monster. Demon. Freak. Sadist.

Of course, it was only a matter of time.

An inevitability, really.

Nami had sat at the edge of the bed and ran her hand though raven tresses. She did not ask questions. She did not need an explanation.

It was over.

No matter what she had selfishly wanted, he had made his own choice. It was understandable, logical, the right thing to pick.

Are you seriously planning on leaving your whole life behind for a broad you just met?

No!

They’d taken it too far, they’d finally broken the last rule.

The demon within her had almost killed him. Her own curiosity had gotten both of them hurt.

If Franky followed her, left to chase the thrall of the sea, then it was only a matter of time before history repeated itself. It always did.

Therefore, it was time to learn from the past.

It would not be a mistake made a second time.

Sanji stood guard near the headboard, plate of food offered unwaveringly. He did not even think of leaving her side until he watched her take a few small bites, and he frowned when she conceded the fight early. The gnaw in her belly did not desire sustenance. Everything turned to silt on her tongue.

But if love was all she needed, then it was here with her crew.

The captain held her tight as she opened her mind to slumber, but rest never arrived. Her heart collapsed once more, dragging her into the midnight. Gaunt eyes resembled the living dead.

Darkness engulfed her body as demonic hands swept away the salt that stained her cheeks. Nico Robin did not let her nakama hear her cry.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t notice.

Zoro’s eye cracked open and his ears perked up. The squeak of the front gate interrupted the peaceful silence of the night. Hand to hilt. The front steps creaked under a heavy weight.

Unsheathe.

Just one.

For now.

A quick, quiet knock tapped on the front door. The swordsman paused, scowling at the sound. A second knock beat, only a hair louder. The tiger in the bushes waiting to pounce. The door swung inwards cautiously.

His blade was held up to the very nervous head that peaked through the threshold. Steel to pink flesh. Well, steel to steel, at least.

Franky raised both heavily ladened hands silently and took many big steps backward, stumbling into the dark night he’d emerged from. Zoro followed, never lowering his sword. The door was shut, partitioning the sleeping pirates from their disruptor.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The warrior tried to whisper as best he could.

“Uhh, I know what it looks like, bro. But I gotta talk to Robin.”

“No way in hell I’m letting you wake her up. Do you even know what time it is?”

“I know, I know!” The cyborg curled defensively, trying his best to look small, “But I got no other time. Can you please wake her up for me?”

“No!” Zoro was doing a bad job of keeping his volume low, “She said she's not feeling well, she needs to sleep. You can get your dick wet some other time. Maybe not at four in the morning.”

“I’m not here for sex, dude! I need to give her something.”

“Uh huh, give her what exactly?” One green eyebrow was raised quizzically.

“It’s a gift! I fucked up bad earlier. I’m tryin’ to make amends, but I’m outta time. So it’s now or never. I can’t have it be never, so please can you go wake her up for me, bro? And then I swear, it’ll be the last you see of me. Both of you. All of you.”

“All of us? The hell you talking about, man?”

Franky sighed and set the many bags in his hands down on the little retaining wall around the bungalow. “I’m hittin’ the road same time as you tomorrow, I won’t be around. I got in super big trouble with the Galley-La guys for a stunt I pulled last night. So I’m on house arrest- boat arrest- once the work day starts at seven. We’re gonna be pushing through the night on the finishing touches, so I’ve got maybe a few hours to say bye to her. Please, bro. I just wanna say goodbye,” he said, voice wavering.

The green haired man’s steely expression didn’t change, but he did lower his weapon.

“Fine. But you gotta answer a question first.”

“Uh, I’m not super good at riddles but okay, sure.”

“What the fuck happened to her hands?” Zoro asked, sheathing his sword but keeping his hand on the hilt. 

“Fuck, uh, yeah. I needed help with a, uh, medical thing. And I knew it was super dangerous, and I tried to warn her. But she still got hurt anyway and I feel fucking terrible about it, dude. Trust me, I feel like fucking shit that she got cut.”

Fingers twitched above the scabbard, “Cut? What are you talking about?”

“What? She cut her hand. She- well she broke two of her flowery ones-”

“She broke them?!” Both swords were immediately drawn again.

“No, no, no! Well, I dunno. She said she didn’t really break ‘em. But I don’t know how her hands work, they kinda… confuse me.”

Zoro laughed dryly, “Yeah, I bet they do.”

“W-what’s that supposed to mean? Whatever. She got cut but then she ran off before we could fix it.”

“Why’d she run?”

“I don’t totally know, bro, that’s why I gotta talk to her! But, uh, I got in a fight with a guy. He said some fucked up shit about her and I couldn’t let that stand. And now I’m in trouble with the GC guys.”

“Ohhhh another ship guy, huh?” The swordsman scoffed, “Was it the asshole who’s always givin’ the girls shit about what they’re wearing? Douchebag blond rope bunny, whatever his name was.”

Franky doubled over, trying to keep his laughed quiet for the sake of the sleeping pirates. He wiped tears from his eyes, big shoulders shaking, “Yeah, yeah him. I was fuckin’ sick of hearing him give her a hard time.”

“So… whad’ja do to him?”

Swords lowered an inch.

“Uhhhh he broke his fist. On my jaw. After I broke his jaw. With my fist.”

“Fuck yeah, man.”

Weapons sheathed once more with a dual shwink.

“But she ran before I could talk to her, I just wanna know she’s okay. Please?”

Zoro frowned, trying hard to think, “You didn’t answer my question, what happened to her hands?”

“Yeah, I did. She got cut.”

“No, dumbass, you think I don’t know rope burn when I see it? Who tied her up, the guy you threw down with? Did he hurt her?”

“Uh- oh, uhhhhhh,” the cyborg stammered, trying to think of how he was going to explain this part, “Well, uhhh-.”

“It was nothing I did not agree to. That’s all you need to know,” interrupted a dark voice from the doorway. Robin stepped through, not looking particularly pleased to be up at four in the morning. In spite of her clear displeasure, she slid a jacket on and pulled her book bag over her shoulder.

“H-hey,” Franky stammered, immediately ignoring the green haired man holding him captive.

“Hello,” she turned back to Zoro, “It’s fine. Thank you for your diligence. I can take this from here.”

“You sure?”

“Very. But thank you.”

“A’right,” he grunted, nodding at the blue haired man and disappearing back into the dark of the sleeping quarters.

The two remaining figures stood in awkward silence for a beat. They both initiated conversation at the same time.

“So, uh-.”

“What’s all this?” Robin pointed to bags on top of the wall.

“Eh, ’s for later. You’ll see,” the cyborg brushed the question off.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. Is that alright? I just wanna talk and stuff. Got something I wanna show you. And a lot to apologize for.”

“Are you ready to leave now?” She asked, taking a step down from the door.

“Yeah, totally. Ay! Actually, uh, can you bring your books?”

“Which book?”

“All of ‘em! As many as you can carry.”

“I can carry quite a lot.”

“Then bring the lot with ya.”

The historian frowned at the request but nodded and walked back into living quarters. Franky stood in the cold morning, all on his own. He fidgeted with his bags, trying to stay busy as he waited. After a few minutes, she reappeared. Five extra hands held totes full of tomes and a loose stack tight to her body. One real limb adjusted the hat that she had put on her head.

“I know it’s early, but it’s the only time I got. Oh, uh, and I got this for you. Sorry,” the man offered the first of his many, many planned apologies. He held out a medium sized paper cup of black coffee with a travel lid, a bit sheepish about the gesture.

“Thank you,” Robin smiled, though it was tired and tight.

“Don’t know if it’s still warm or not. Sorry, if it already got cold.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for thinking of me,” she repeated, bringing out even more hands to grab the drink. It was warm enough. Enough. Enough. Enough.

“Always am. Let’s get movin’,” the cyborg nodded to the front gate, picking up all of his many things and leading the way.

They walked the now familiar path to the construction site, not saying anything to each other. Both sets of many hands were much too full to hold each other. Franky adjusted his grip on one bag.

“So, uh, how’s your hand feel?” He finally formulated the words, though he knew they weren’t enough. Never enough.

“It’s fine. The cut wasn’t deep.”

“Did your gorilla friend patch you up?” He asked, looking over softly.

“No, I ended up doing it myself. I didn’t have the heart or the energy to come up with an excuse for what happened to the rest of my wrists,” she laughed weakly.

“That’s smart, yeah.”

Of course it was super smart, dumbass, he kicked himself. She’s a genius, fuckin’ duh she thought through everything.

“What did you do last night?” Robin kept her gaze down to the cobblestones, brim of her stetson blocking her eyes.

“Me? Uh, spent a while looking for you. But I figured you knew what you needed, and if that was space, then I wasn’t gonna push it. You got good friends to help take care of you. So I went back to work. Busted my ass through the night, got the lecture of my fuckin’ life from Burg.”

“Thank you for the breathing room. I had a lot of things I needed to think about. Alone,” One hand shifted how she held the stack of books, another lifted the coffee to her lips. She thought for a moment and continued, “What did the mayor have to say?”

“He chewed me the fuck up for ditching the team for two more hours than expected. And for taking his foreman out of commission. And for lying to him for a week. So now I’m chained to the ship until it’s finished. I gotta get all of Paulie’s work done for him today, too. Seems fuckin’ stupid, if you ask me. It’s not my fault he broke his hand, he made his choice to throw that punch.”

“Wait,” the woman paused, “He hit you?”

“What? Oh, I figured you listened in on the whole convo.”

“No, I started to leave somewhere early on when you said- it doesn’t matter. I left early. And I listened for a bit from a distance but it… it got to be too much so I went back home.”

“Oh. Yeah, he said some super rough shit, I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t his words that hurt the most.”

Franky’s stomach dropped, “oh.”

“But he hit you? Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine. Super fine. And uh, I slugged him first, technically. Didn’t like the crap he was talkin’. And then he hit me.”

“You hit him? Why?”

“I hated that that he called you a- it’s nothing. I just didn’t like how he was talkin’ about you. Wasn’t cool. So I made my feelings known. He couldn’t step up to the challenge. And now he’s got a few broken fingers and click in the jaw for the rest of his life to remind him of you,” the cyborg shrugged as they started to move again.

“I don’t know if I should be grateful or appalled at the brutality, honestly. I can handle myself. Many terrible things have been said about me within earshot, I’ve got thick skin,” she said, eyes still avoidant.

“Oh totally! I never though you couldn’t. If you’re still in the mood to make him smoke his own dick, I can show you where he lives,” the cyborg laughed.

“That’s a very temping offer,” Robin chuckled an actual, proper laugh. The early morning chill warmed just one degree.

“So, uh,” Franky gulped, “what was it that you heard that made you leave? If it’s nothing he said…”

The woman sighed, her heels clicking loudly on the bridge over a canal. “I- I heard you make your choice.  I knew it was always the more likely possibility, I thought I was ready to hear the words. And… and yet when you said it I still felt… nothing. Not nothing as in no reaction. Nothing like… like I stopped feeling anything at all. I imploded. Retreated. So I left. It's an instinct of mine.”

“Wait, what choice did I make?” The man looked over at her, puzzled. He tried to think through all the different things he said, but his memory was a blur of wild fury.

“You told him, with distinct finality, that you were not leaving with us. I understand your choice. You’ve got a good family here. It would be selfish for me to ask you to give that up,” she said, kicking a loose pebble further down the road.

“I- I hadn’t totally made up my mind at the time. Kinda. But, I have now. I think.” He looked away, trying to keep his breath even, “I was putting on a face for Paulie earlier. I lied to him to look like thinkin’ it through wasn’t killin’ me.”

“You lied? But you’ve made your decision?” She asked, tone just a bit more hopeful.

“…Yeah. I think so. Gave it a lot of thought while I was workin’ through the night. Can’t stop thinking about how hurt you got and-“

“I didn’t get all that hurt.”

“I don’t just mean the cuts. But that’s part of this, too, yeah. Just thinkin’ about me ‘n the shit I do. I destroy things super easily. You get good at fixin’ stuff when you’re the one that makes ‘em broken in the first place. I’m hard to live with. I don’t like askin’ for help, even when I know I need it. I got a super short temper for assholes, and I dunno if that’s good for living with teenagers. Y’know?”

“So what are you saying?” Robin tipped her head further down and away so the brim covered even her jaw.

“I’m stayin’. Yeah, I’m stayin’. That’s what I’ve chosen. I can’t ask you to take me with you, no matter how much I want to. It would be… greedy. I can’t have you get hurt because of me again. I’m dangerous, everything about me is dangerous. This isn’t… whew, this isn’t a body built for something like love, not any more. I’m not good to touch, everything inside me is designed to grind to a pulp. I’m not warm, I can’t feel you how I want to. I got fuckin’ gun hands! And it’s cool and it’s super and it works for me but shit, it’s not meant for someone else to get close to. I can’t do it. I can’t leave you tied up and stuck like that again. I’m sorry.”

“Wait, is this about you passing out?”

“It’s part of it, but not all of it. I got carried away. I fuckin’ hate myself for leaving you trapped there, and not being there to care for you when you got out. I’m either too much, or I’m not enough. I don’t know where the line is. Like, ever. And I can’t make up my fucking mind. I can’t pick the right thing to do to save my goddam life. Whatever I go with is always the wrong choice.”

“So, if you know you pick wrong, and you choose to stay, then by that logic you should come with us. Right?” The woman asked, voice soft. Franky wished he could see her face at the angle they walked at. All he wanted was to stare into her eyes, to let her convince him. But she couldn’t even look at him; she probably hated him for the same reasons he was mad at himself, he figured. Robin took another sip of coffee.

“Your logic’s sound, but it’s the other way around,” Franky mumbled.

“You- you’re staying here because you want to leave?”

“Yeah. If my gut’s saying run, then I gotta hold my ground,” he nodded, trying to assure himself. “You don’t want me to go. Like we said from the start, this week gets to live in infamy in our memories this way.”

“Y-you’re sure,” she said, stating rather than asking. He didn’t respond for a long time. Footsteps slowed as they reached the edge of the city and shifted as they began walking along the outer wall. Both bodies hesitated. Their meandering brought them to the top of the stairs that led down to the beach.

“I might be. I am right now, at least. Which is why I want to do this,” he gestured between her and the boat in the distance, “I know I want this moment, just to be safe. I want one last super perfect morning with you. One for the memory books. I’m not gonna be there tomorrow to give everyone else the surprises. I can’t- If I show this beauty off to the crew myself, then I’m never gettin’ off of it. Guess I’ll just have to imagine how everyone reacts. But… I can’t do that for you. You’re different. So I wanna show this to you now. And then I just wanna have a great morning, where we- fuck, I dunno-“ the cyborg blushed, feeling like he inhabited the body of a much younger version of himself, “hang out and have breakfast and watch the sunrise and just talk about shit. Maybe like, make out or something.”

“Franky, are you asking me on a date?” She laughed, but her voice hiccuped slightly. Robin began to take the stairs one at a time, head still down to keep her steps even. She took another drink.

“N-no- well, maybe a little. Just one. Just today. But it’s no fun because you already know the ending of the story. I’m saying goodbye when it’s over and that’s it. We’re outta time,” he hesitated, before following down the stairs behind her.

“I-I think I understand,” the woman answered slowly. She took a long breath, trying to keep her voice steady. Franky watched her shoulders from behind, catching the way they trembled just a little. Her nth hand flashed over her cheek, disguised as drinking from her coffee cup. The angle of her brim kept her eyes hidden. Realization dawned in the early morning chill- she wasn’t avoiding his glance out of rage or malice. She didn’t want him looking at her. The demon didn’t want to be caught vulnerable.

“But,” he started to say, trying to fix what he could while he still had the chance, “I gotta  couple of caveats. Fine print. One, I reserve the right to change my mind at the last minute. Like, final-thirty-seconds-last minute.”

“A-and then what will you do?”

“Dunno. If it happens it’ll be like, super spur of the moment. Maybe it’s like those cheesy ass romance books you read, or the movies my lil’ sis’s take me to see. I realize what a huge dumbass I’m being, and I sprint across town to kiss you and get on that boat anyways. Or I do some big fuckin’ declaration of love and the whole town talks about how I’m a big ol’ softy deep down. That doesn’t sound super cool to me, but I think lookin’ a little stupid’s kinda the point,” a small grin cracked over his cheeks.

“This city sure does have a quick rumor cycle. You’d need to give the people something to talk about,” Robin chuckled, but it was soft like the morning dew.

“One last show.”

“It’s what they deserve.”

“Uh, it’s way more than they deserve.”

That made her laugh for real.

“What’s the second caveat?” The woman asked when they reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped down onto soft, white sand.

Franky laughed and shifted all his parcels into just one big hand. He used his now free fingers to glance over her shoulder, prompting the archeologist to turn around. She still kept her head low, brim angled, averting any line of his gaze.

“Second. In some super crazy coincidence where there was a greedy fuckin’ pirate in my town- which there shouldn’t be because I always keep this place super safe- but if one did manage to sneak in here and steal all my shit- my sunglasses, a few of my shirts, my sanity, my dreams, my heart. And then she decided that still wasn’t enough, and she decided to take me too, I wouldn’t be mad. I’m puttin’ myself out on the sidewalk corner with a big “Free Couch” sign taped to my front. So I can’t be upset if a thief takes me up on the offer.”

The stetson cocked, like she was trying to think through her words, “B-but what if you…”

“I told ya, I figured out what I wanted. And I’m doin’ the opposite because that’s just who I am and what I need to do, but if someone else felt the desire to intervene in my self sabotage, who the fuck am I to argue. Y’know?”

“But you said that you think that I don’t want you to go.  And that you’d rather this stay a perfect little memory. I can’t take that away from you. I’m the difficult one to live with. And I might be a kleptomaniac- I have taken quite a lot of your clothes,” she tried to argue.

“Look, I’m throwin’ every shit excuse I got to try and convince myself that’s the case. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this week stays a perfect memory… but also we get an encore, too. Maybe we both suck at cohabitation, I don’t know, you can’t possibly be worse than six teens. And maybe some klepto demon pirate chick actually does want this old ass free couch after all, weird fuckin’ cum stain and all.”

Robin laughed, shoulders shaking under the big palm that held her, “Maybe. Did you ever figure out what to do with the couch at the warehouse that I ruined?”

“Nah, no one wants that thing, not even for free. Not even if I paid them to take it away.”

“But you got the new couch. The new couch for the new ship in the new workshop.”

“Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I? And it’s so much easier to clean.”

“That’s not enough to convince you on it’s own?”

“Nah, I got some super great memories on my shitty old sofa. Couldn’t part with it even if I wanted to. And I want to. But I can’t. So the couch stays here. Unless it gets stolen. But I can’t count on that happening. So I gotta live like I’m keepin’ it and try to start cleanin’ the mess up.”

“Then why not just come with me? Why the performance? If you want someone to come steal you away, then just say yes,” her voice shook again.

“Because the couch isn’t in the best shape but it’s all I’ve ever known. Lived on that couch since I was a kid. It’s a weird fuckin’ color and the springs kinda pinch and it’s been reupholstered a bunch of times. It’s got weird patches and scars from where it got all ripped up and burned. Plus it’s got all those funky ass stains. And shit, it’s heavy as all fuck. So for me? I like it where it is, because it’s what I got and what I know. But I also can’t imagine what someone would want with this shitty fuckin’ couch, let alone why she’d go through all the effort to take it with her. It’s not gonna let itself be stolen easily, mind you. It just won’t be mad if it finds a new home.”

“Why do you think no one wants the couch?”

“Because maybe I don’t even like the couch all that much. All I see are the rips and the stains and the springs. And I look at the new couch, the nicer leather couch, and I go, ‘yeah. That’s a couch anyone can sit on, anyone in the world could love that new couch.’ But my couch? No one’s cryin’ for it when it stays where it is.”

“That’s not true!” Robin stopped his rambling. The wide brim finally tilted back, puffy eyes meeting his. She sniffed and tried to shake herself out of it, but the lingering evidence of her emotions couldn’t be denied.

“Oh,” the man whispered, taken aback by the sight even though he’d suspected as much.

“I made the mess, I spilled all over that couch. I poured the soda, I got it sticky. I made the stain. So just let me take it off your hands, or at least let me help you carry it,” she said with a firmness in her voice.

“I can’t make you do that! I’m strong, and it’s my job to fix stuff. So I got this. You really do not want to have this crappy old couch on your new boat, even if you found a way to clean all the cola and cum off of it in the next few hours. It’s not a nice couch.”

“What if I don’t want a nice couch? Or a comfortable couch, or a new, clean couch. What if I want a reliable couch, that’s lasted through fire and re-skinning and a few rounds of sex? What if I want a couch with a little worn indent for me in the spot where I like to read? Hm? What if the weight is worth it?”

“It isn’t! You’re being way too nice to my shitty couch. You haven’t known it long enough to see it’s not the couch you think it is,” the cyborg kicked at the sand, “I hate that fuckin’ couch, I stare at that thing every day thinking about how much I hate it. I can’t make you take it just so you can learn you hate it, too.”

“Maybe I think it’s the most interesting couch I’ve ever sat on, even if it was just one afternoon! Maybe I like that there’s a story for every stitch, and that there’s passion soaked into the cushions. Maybe I want to sit on it every day, even if one of the old springs poked me! Maybe I’ve got a perfect spot in my home for a couch like this! Maybe I love the crappy couch even when he’s being stubborn as hell!”

“Wait, wha-“

All the book bags were dropped into the sand at once. The many hands holding them disappeared into confetti and she reached up to throw her real ones around his neck. They pulled him sharply downward. Franky was so thrown by the declaration and the speed and the metaphors that he stumbled a bit.

Lips connected in a flash. She twisted through his hair and pulled him in tight. The force and the speed knocked her hat clean off. He didn’t know what to do, hands still too full to hold her back. All he could do was kiss her in return, fierce and bold like the morning sun.

The shock still lingered on his face as he was released. His hair stayed mussed, eyes closed, lips parted in awe. The woman down in the sand steadied herself, readjusted her jacket, and picked her hat back up.

“I left the warehouse because I didn’t want you to see me- dammit- see me cry when you said you were staying, but I stopped listening when that man made fun of your feelings and implied I was incapable of feeling them myself. I know my emotions are harder to read. I keep things much closer to my chest because it’s kept me safer that way. I have lived much longer on my own than I have with anyone,” Robin said, her eyes averting once again as she picked up her dropped bags.

The tall man tried to blink through the daze, “Oh, so you left like, seconds before I hit him. That was my limit, too. He doesn’t know you, you’re nothing like that.”

“You always see the better side in me. I’m quite a lot like his description. If you’re a beat up old couch, I’m… I don’t know. An iron maiden.”

“That’s so hot,” Franky whispered under his breath. He looked down at the woman and then back up at the sky, just starting to imperceptibly lighten in the distance. A big frown grew across his face, “we should get moving so I can give you your gift before the sun comes up.”

“Fine, alright,” she nodded and began walking down the sandy path.

“You’re not a torture chamber,” the man continued where they left off as they walked, “And if you are, it’s like, a sexy torture chamber. You’re cool. And kinda scary, yeah. But in a way that’s super fuckin’ rad. ‘Least for me. An iron maiden, shit why the fuck would I of all people have problems with that? And you’re not nearly as much of a mystery as you think you are. You’re a hard read but not impossible to comprehend, once I got to know the words.”

“And you ramble when you’re nervous,” Robin laughed.

“Fuck yeah, I do! I’m easy as hell to read, an open book right here.”

“The books in your collection were more dense than you give yourself credit for. I was having trouble with a few of them.”

“Uh, yeah I’m dense as hell! Iron fuckin’ skull right here. You gotta say shit super fuckin’ plain for me to get it, unless we’re talking about carbon dioxide sucrose-assisted emergency propulsion systems.”

“We never found the time for that engineering talk, did we? I would have liked to learn how you ticked. But this is really it, isn’t it? This is the last time I’ll see you.”

“What if I flipped it? Ay?” The cyborg propositioned with wild abandon, “you stay. Live on this island with me. We rebuild the house, you lead an excavation team on the old abandoned lower levels of the city. I shave my head and take that shitty job offer and we change out names. Roberta and Franklin with their beach house and two-point-five kids and a dog. And I take you to see my favorite bands play and you show me all your favorite bones and sometimes we get food in the middle of the night as a treat. What if you stayed and we laid low and got to be boring?”

“I think that sounds a bit like hell,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, it’d be super fucking terrible! But I’d do it if you wanted to stay with me.”

“I can’t leave my crew, you saw how hard they worked for me. I like them. I love them. They’re my family- my nakama. I couldn’t turn around throw that all away.”

“Yes! Exactly! And who was right there behind them?”

“… Your Family.”

“My Family! I can’t dream of leaving them for the same reasons you can’t imagine leaving your crew. They’ve done just as much for me. My brothers, my sisters, my fuckin’ giant gay sea horses. I like you guys a lot, but this is why I gotta say goodbye today. I love them so much. I can’t throw all their hard work away either. You catch my drift?”

Robin chewed her bottom lip, “Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand.” She made a note in her mind to have a long talk with Luffy, Zoro, and Zambai once the day had properly started.

The pair trudged the last few meters in the sand as they finally approached the gang plank leaning against the unfinished ship.

“You’ve made quite a lot of progress in the last day and a half,” the woman laughed, eyeing the newly erected structures.

“Yeah, the main stuff’s all finished. I work fast as hell when I got my brain on right.”

“Hm, fascinating.”

Heels clicked up the little bridge.

“Careful, there might still be nails and shit layin’ around.”

“I’ll keep an eye out. So what needs to be done today? It all looks fairly completed,” she hummed, trying to take a peek around.

“Hey! No snoopin’ we’re here for one thing. But, uh, yeah if this was a normal ship it’d be done by now. But it ain’t. I got the landscaping guys comin’ at ten for the lawn. Your navigator’s got some furniture getting dropped off I think but we gotta paint before that. Glass guys’ll be here at three for the aquarium, and then it’s gotta cycle like as fast as possible. Busy shit today.”

“Aquarium? That’s cute.”

“Nah, forty thousand gallons ain’t cute. ’S fuckin’ super.”

“Sorry, forty thousand gallons?”

“It’s gonna be so cool, you’re gonna love it.”

“So is that the surprise? The largest fish tank I’ve ever seen?” She raised both eyebrows.

“Oh, no way! That’s just for fun. I stayed up all night finishing your surprise first. But you’ve got the last pieces with you to really complete it.”

He guided them into the galley, throwing a few of his many parcels down on the dining table. The man pointed her to the ladder, prompting the demon to climb up. The feat was a bit tricky with their hands full, but she grew two more to aide in the ascent.

They emerged onto the observation deck, skirting the bags of mulch that leaned against roughed out flower beds. Tangerine trees still sat in their temporary potting mixture.

“What’s going to grow here? Is this what the landscapers are coming for? It’s a lovely spot,” she sighed, breathing in the early morning sea air. The faintest wisps of pink were beginning to appear in the clouds above the horizon.

“They’re mostly gonna focus on the grass and the trees. I was plannin’ on leaving a few beds empty in case there was anyone on your crew that uh, liked flowers. Wasn’t sure if you knew of anyone that matched that description.”

The woman laughed and knelt to inspect the soil, “Yes, I think I can think of someone. Is this the surprise?”

“Nah, this is just ‘cos I like ya,” he laughed.

“Oh, really?”

Franky stepped in front, stopping her from walking any further. He dropped the rest of his bags down on a nearby crate, stretching his shoulders and biceps with a little grunt.

“‘Kay, I know you don’t enjoy proper surprises. But it would mean a lot to me if you would play along. Please?”

“Play along?”

“Yeah, can you close your eyes? And then not grow any more? Pleeeeeaaaase?”

“I’ll consider it, but can you use a different voice? I quite liked playing along with you yesterday, where’d the dominant Franky go?”

“He nut so hard his brain stem crashed, so he’s taking a little bit of a break. But,” his voice dropped and he ran a now-free hand over her cheek, “I think you don’t want to spoil this one for yourself. Even for as greedy and you are. This is something special. Can you trust me?”

The book bags were shuffled around and Robin nodded, “alright. I trust you. No extra eyes, I promise.” She closed her lids gently.

“Thank you,” the man whispered low in he ear. He put one big palm over her face, double checking that she had not grown extra on his knuckles. The other hand swung the door open and then came to rest between her shoulder blades. She was turned softly but with firmness, encouraged to take a few steps into the room. Lights were lit, but the incandescence was blocked by his dense, metal prosthesis.

“You can drop your bags if you want.”

She put her many totes on the ground. Helping hands disappeared. The cyborg guided her gently two more paces forward.

“‘Kay, ready?”

“If you tease any longer I will peek,” the woman laughed.

“You know me, love a tease,” the hand on her back ran down her spine. She shivered. “Okay,” Franky whispered in her ear again, “you can open ‘em.” He pulled his hand away, letting his fingers settle gently on her hips.

Robin opened two bright, blue eyes, momentarily blinded by the light of the room. She blinked twice to clear her vision and took a sharp breath inward. Curiosity possessed her fingertips as she stepped further into the library, gaze immediately swirling from empty bookshelf to empty bookshelf. The woman spun in a circle, following the round walls of the building

She didn’t say anything as she ran a hand over the soft bench cushions, the smooth stain of each shelf, and the crystal windows that would surely flood the room with daylight once the sun was up.

The shipwright stood back near the door, sweating a little bit from her lack of words. He shuffled, picked up two of her bags, and set them on the little table in the middle of the room.

It was still quiet as she paced a second lap. Franky wanted to say something in defense but thought better of it and shut his mouth. The woman twirled, counting all dozen bookshelves. Her mouth opened, lips visibly trying to sculpt words, though none escaped.

“So, uh, yeah. This is for you. Well, uh, technically it’s for everyone to use. But like, I made it with you in mind,” he mumbled hesitantly when she still didn’t speak.

“Y-you built this for… me?”

“Yeah, I wanted you to have a room for yourself. Somewhere you can relax. A, uh, couch with a little worn indent in the spot where you like to read. Where it’s bright and warm and quiet and-“

His nervous rambling was interrupted- for the second time that morning- by hands around his neck and lips locking tight. The sudden change in her reaction made the man’s eyes go wide in surprise. Hot iron melted under her fingertips and he finally wrapped an unburdened hand around her waist. Extra hands nudged against him. The big body took a step back. Prosthetic calves caught the edge of the bench and he stumbled, hand grabbing for one empty shelf. A phantom limb sprouted and pried his grip off the wood, shoving him further down and onto the cushion.

Robin was in his lap, thighs straddling his tight little hips. Arm after arm pressed him down and trapped him in a cage made of her body. Her real hands traced every inch of his face- brow to sideburn to ear to jaw to chin to cheek to nose to forehead, along his hairline, and then back around again. Her lips never wavered, mouth never ceased its tender caress.

“S-so you like it?” Franky gasped against her as he fought for air.

“Oh, yes. I love it so very,” she punctuated the word with a kiss, “very,” another in the corner of his mouth, “very,” up at his temple, “very,” the tip of his nose, “very,” the lobe of his ear, “very,” the underside of his jaw, “very,” the cleft in his chin, “very,” back to his lips, “very much. It’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever done for me. Many people have given me books, but no one has ever built me a library.”

“Cool. Super cool. Yeah, yeah. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” he muttered back, trailing off as he returned to kissing the woman in his lap.

Her lips danced across his face once more, settling between his jaw and his ear. She nibbled and sucked on scarred flesh, the short hairs of his sideburns ticking the edge of her face. Big palms held her waist and hips, clawing gently at her clothes.

“When did you start planning this?” The archeologist crooned, mouth to his skin.

“Right when I got home from the bar, first night we hung out. Wanted to do something cool for you. And I got this, heh, funny thing that happens when I drink other uh, beverages- if ya catch my drift. It kinda changes me a little. Just for a bit. So I had a moment of like, total inspiration for what you might like. ‘Coz you were already deep in my system before I even really got to know you. And you’ve only gotten more intwined since.”

“Really? Fascinating!” She laughed, and a hand swirled through his long hair.

“Demon lady, you’ve possessed me since before day one. You rocked my world from the moment I saw you on that train. I wanted to make you something that would make you feel safe for the rest of your life, or at least as long as you call this place your home. Now, you got your own little library made of Treasure Tree wood in the middle of the big ol’ blue.”

Her lips released their siege on his neck and she shuddered, choking a little on the weight that had grown in the back of her throat. The hands on her hips shifted to hold her tight, wrapping her in a warm hug.

“I- I can’t tell you what this means. I’m s-sorry, I’m not g-good with my words,” Robin cried gently into the collar of his shirt.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. I understand. I’m happy you like it. Were you actually surprised, or didja spoil it?”

“I was actually surprised. I promise. I played along.”

“Heh, good. I was super scared, ‘specially when I caught you snoopin’ around in the workshop the other day. Didn’t want ya seeing the plans. Your friends said you’re a tricky woman to pull one over on.”

“I am, I’m almost more surprised you were able to pull it off,” the woman laughed, pushing herself off of his chassis to sit up straight. One hand around her waist raised to her cheek and a big thumb wiped a lingering tear away.

“You okay? How ya feelin’?” Franky asked with genuine concern in his eyes.

“I feel… something I’ve never felt before. I don’t know. Though, I am a bit embarrassed that you’ve seen me cry twice in the last hour.”

“Don’t feel bad about that! If you got so many emotions that they gotta get out, then let ‘em out! You’ve seen me cry like, what, a hundred times this week? And you’re gonna see me do it again in a little bit. So don’t worry. It’s happy tears, yeah?”

“Oh yes. Though, I am a little sad. You’re going to say goodbye once this morning is over.”

“Are you not going to say goodbye?”

“I don’t know if I’ll have the words.”

“I think you might regret not saying something.”

“I’ll start thinking of them now, then,” she hummed, kissing him deeply one more time. The room sparkled with the faintest of pink hues. Fingers wrapped lazily through her dark hair. Hips rolled gently like the sea.

“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met in my whole life. And I hope that when you’re out there- wherever you are- and you’re feeling sad or alone, you can come here. And you can remember that somewhere in this hell of a world, there’s someone who loves you. Even if he’s far away. Yeah? Even if he had to say goodbye too soon,” soft, dark eyes memorized her every feature.

“Yes. Yes, I think I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life.”

“Good. Yeah, fuckin’ super. That’s perfect,” the man kissed up from her clavicle to her cheek.

“Is this all a part of your perfect morning?”

“Oh, this was the foundation of it. And so far everything’s going according to plan,” he grinned into her skin, squishing the soft points of her smile.

“So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Was thinkin’ you could start filling out this library with the one you’re always carryin’ around with you. And then we could see what sort of mood you’re in after that, but no pressure. If you’re just wantin’ to focus on your books, that’s perfect too.”

“Oh?” Robin tilted her head to catch him with her lips once more. Her hips shifted just a bit in an attempt to identify which attachment she’d be working with. He laughed.

“Heh, I got nothin’ on right now, but I can change that. Brought a few options with me. But uhhhh…”

“But what?”

“I haven’t had the time to get the, uh, necessary fixes done after earlier. All I brought is stuff for you, I’m out of commission. Started this week with a lost dick and now I’m endin’ it with a broken one.”

“How broken is it? You’re excellent at fixing things, surely you can make repairs?” Warm fingers traced over the cyborg’s chest and along the little gasket seam just above his swimsuit hem.

“Haven’t had the time. Plus I’d gotta, uh, pop the hood again to take a closer look, and we’re definitely not doing that again. I think some tubing got cracked. So I can hook up to a toy if ya want, but it’s gonna be all about you this morning,” Franky smiled, trying to cover his disappointment. He ran one finger through the fringe of her jacket.

“But that’ll mean that your last time with me almost k-.”

“Ay, my last time with you will be whatever you wanna do next. And I’m actually kinda proud that my final bust almost killed me. I think there’s actually no better way to end this week. You came to town, you shook everything up, you broke my dick, and you sailed off with all my hopes and dreams.”

Robin frowned and shook her head, “That makes me sound pure evil, I don’t want you to remember me that way.”

“Then how do you want me to remember you?”

“Hmmmmm…” she thought, keeping her hips steadily warmed up, “I want you to remember me when you go dancing. And I want you to remember me when you get late night fast food. And I want you to remember me when you look at the flowers. And remember me when you run through the streets after the sun sets. And I want you to remember me when the lighting is nice in your bedroom.”

“Oh, so you want me to never stop thinking of you every time I do literally anything?”

“Yes, precisely. And when you do think of me, I want you to remember how it felt when I broke your dick.”

“You are a bit of a villain.”

“Your friend with the ropes wasn’t fully wrong. I’m not a good person, that’s for sure. And maybe I do like you for your body, just a little.”

“Ugh,” the cyborg rolled his eyes sarcastically, “That’s what they all say. It’s alway, ‘wow, Franky, you’re so hot with your super natural washboard abs and your massive cock and your hypnotic intestinal gears.’ And y’know, sometimes it makes a guy sad! No one’s ever telling me they like me for my big brain or my gooey caramel center! And then I weep, all alone.”

“Mmmm sorry to make you cry,” the woman ran a light touch over long bottom lashes.

“Oh, I’m gonna be cryin’ for weeks. ‘M kinda glad you’re leaving so you can’t witness the absolute bender I got planned for the next month.”

“You’re already planning on being devastated by this breakup?”

Franky pulled back to stare at her with a frown, “Uhhhh, first of all this isn’t a breakup. This is somehow totally worse than if we just got mad and fought and ended things and avoided each other. Second, yes I am.”

“What’s first on the schedule?” She asked with a little giggle.

“I should be gettin’ to San Faldo late tomorrow night. Might find a skeevy ass poker table to blow the last of this cash at. Or I just end up at a bar and get wasted.”

“Lose it all on hookers and blow?”

“Pssssh, not with a broken dick I’m not! And cocaine’s not my speed. Well, a bit before the accident. But it mostly just gets me focused more than anything, don’t know what that’s about. And they haven’t put it in cola in like, decades.”

Robin laughed hard, bringing her forehead down to rest on his shoulder.

“Actually,” the man laughed in her ear, “can I as something super personal?”

“Sure.”

“Would you mind if I got a tattoo of you? Is that too much?”

“A… tattoo?”

“Yeah! We always get these big ass burly sailor dudes comin’ through town and they show off their, like, sexy pinup girls. And they’d talk about the woman they met on shore leave that rocked their world before they had to sail away. When I was a little shrimp I used to think that was like, the coolest thing. I think it’d be super rad to have like, a six armed, blunt banged sexy demon woman, like a real traditional style.”

“Where would you put it?” The woman in question ran her eyes down his body.

“Thinkin’ my bicep, maybe. Somewhere squishy, I wanna feel it.”

“Maybe a tramp stamp?”

“Oooooo now you’re thinkin’! So would that be alright? Or is that too far.”

She thought about it for a moment, “I guess even if I opposed, I can’t really stop you from doing what you will with your own body. Though, actually, could you not make it a demon? Can I be wearing the hat?”

“The ha- hey, hang on, where did your hat end up?”

They both turned to look around. The dark stetson lay in the middle of the floor, long discarded in the heat of their embrace. Robin pushed herself up laboriously, walking to where she had dropped it. She picked the hat back up and placed back on top of her head at a dangerous tilt.

“Yeah, yeah I like the hat so fucking much. It’s super cool, real hot. Why didn’t you ever wear it before?” The man laughed and stood upright to join her.

“I never really found the opportunity. You haven’t seen me in many clothes to begin with, let alone my copious accessories. Maybe one day,” she offered.

“Maybe one day. You guys better come back for tune ups, I gotta make sure my baby’s surviving alright,” Franky pat the wall with ginger care, definitely talking more about the ship than the woman.

“Perhaps the captain should be encouraged to break things often. I’d see you more frequently that way.”

“Heh, you’d better not hurt her on purpose just to see me,” the shipwright laughed and soaked the atmosphere one more time. “‘Kay,” he finally broke away, opening the door to the library, “I’m gonna sort my shit out. You do what you gotta do. I think the sun should start to come up in a few minutes.”

Robin nodded in agreement and turned her attention to her bags full of books. She took each tome out one at a time, and set it down on the little strategy table in the center of the room. Piles grew as she organized them, feeling not unlike their first day at his office. Fiction and nonfiction. Genre and topic. History and language, mysteries and romance. Author by author by author by author.

“You said other people will be using this room too?” The historian called out the open door.

“Uhhhh, yeah, if they want. I dunno how many books they all got. Or if your sword bro knows how to read. Or your captain. The desk’s for the navigator, she picked it out. Actually, she might use this room just as much as you, hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, I quite enjoy her company. I’ll be sure to leave her some space.”

“I built you twelve bookshelves, you’ve got plenty of room for what you got.”

“For now.”

“Ha! Yeah, for now.”

“This just gives me justification to buy more,” she laughed, hands bringing over the next bag to sort. “Though,” the archeologist continued, “expanding the library would be easier if there were a carpenter on board.”

“Eh? Did you say something? I can’t hear you, I’m suuuuper far away,” Franky called back through the door, feigning ignorance.

“Are all your books still at your warehouse?” She shouted back.

“Yeah, the ones we sorted through are there, the ones at my House are way too trashed to recover. The rest I got are mostly Tom’s old books, like old stock logs ’n shit. There aren’t a ton left that’re super helpful, but I don’t got the heart to get rid of ‘em. Maybe Granny wants his stuff?”

“Noted,” Robin whispered to herself, and then projected outward, “Maybe she wants the couch while she’s at it?”

“Oh, she always hated that couch, even before it got old and shitty and housed an orphan for twelve years. But she never tossed it out, so I guess I can respect that.”

“I quite like these green couches you built in here. Sort of like your couch, but a bit different. They’re beautifully crafted.”

“Thanks! Though, ya gotta keep in mind that the fabric’s super hard to clean stains off of.”

“Is that why you picked tile for the floors?” She laughed. Hands began to pull the sorted stacks off of the table and slot them into their designated shelves around the room. Five big bags barely put a dent in the space. Filling up her collection was going to be exciting.

“Uhhhh yup! Easy to mop,” he answered, walking back into the threshold. Big shoulders filled the frame just perfectly, like he’d built all the doorways for his size.

“Why would I need easy to mop floors if you’re staying behind?”

“For all the erotica you apparently read, duh! … And I’m guessing some of the other dudes might need it too, I know a hentai connoisseur when I see one. The floors are also like this is the gym and the bar.”

Franky laughed and threw a metal gun case down on the cleared middle table.

“Sorry, did you design this boat around rooms to have sex in?” The woman looked over her shoulder tipping her hat away so that he could see her laugh.

“Uh, yeah pretty much. What sort of pervert architect would I be if I didn’t think about the fuckability of every space I craft and then maximize it to its super utmost potential?”

“The workshop with the soundproofed walls and the hard points?” She prodded, raising one sultry eyebrow.

“And that ladder goes to the bathhouse,” he pointed.

“Mmmm I do have quite fond memories of you in the bath.”

Robin walked over to the smooth, wood ladder. She ran a hand down its length and took one step up on the first rung.

“Ayy, it’s not ready yet, we’re still waiting on some of the hardware to get here today. But you’ll see it soon enough,” the cyborg interrupted her ascent, walking over to stand behind her. She turned around, two rungs high and more even with his height. Her heels hooked onto the bar and extra hands attempted to keep her steady as she faced backward. The efforts were soon meaningless; her lover’s metal body pressed against her, making it impossible to lose her balance. One big hand found her waist, another wrapped around her slender fingers holding the side of the ladder.

“Mmm I can wait to see the bath house. Though I’d imagine I won’t get much use out of it all on my own.”

“You’ll find someone to help you, someday,” he murmured, trying to not think too much about her in the bath with other people.

“Maybe. We’ll see. What other rooms have you considered the sexual utilization of?”

“Yours, mostly. Well, I made the guys bunks easy to clean, but it’s not like, y’know. Your room.”

“Again, this is quite a lot of thought for a man who swears he’s not leaving with us.”

“Meh, I’ve seen your libido,” the man chuckled and leaned in to kiss her against the ladder. The contact was soft and kind, though a little sad.

“Oh, but I never actually picked out any sheets. I got a bit distracted,” she hummed.

“I tried to choose something you’d like. Soft and easy to wash.”

“For all the company I plan on bringing back.”

“Just, uh, y’know, maybe mourn me a little? Not a month long bender like me, but it’d be nice to know you think of me from time to time,” he kissed her again to keep the jealousy out of his voice.

The woman laughed, “And when would you like me to think of you?”

“I want you to think of me when you dance, and when you see the stars, and when you’re readin’ in this library. And I want you to think of me when you touch yourself late at night,” Franky buzzed in her ear, trying his best to not choke.

His imagination couldn’t stop the jealous onslaught, bombarding him with thoughts of her wrapped around the soft sheets in the early morning sunshine, arms around another man. Visions haunted the cyborg of her hips straddling another man on the couch in the bar, face glowing in the light of the fish tank that he’d built. Maybe she liked men who wanted to fuck in the gym in front of the tall mirror he’d installed. Maybe she liked women who wanted to fuck in the gym. Temptation reminded him of the workshop that he swore he had not built for himself, imagining her suspended from the hardpoints he couldn’t remember why he placed, tied up in the way only he knew how, getting fucked by a man that was not him.

It twisted his stomach in tight sailor’s knots. He’d never gotten to hold her how he’d wanted, and now he was running out of time.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Robin looked at him with the deep, blue eyes that had haunted his dreams all week. She ran a hand down his cheek and lips traced his jaw.

“I really did design this whole thing around good places to fuck, didn’t I? Why’d I do that?”

“Because it’s one of your favorite pastimes,” she laughed against his skin.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

Fuck, she left her mark everywhere. He’d taken her at all of his favorite haunts. There were so many places he wanted to take her next. Her new bed, the new bath, the new lounge, his- no, someone else’s- new workshop, the new kitchen, her new library. It wasn’t too late. The ship still needed a christening. Except that his dick was still broken.

Their final time had almost killed him. And he’d never gotten to hold her how he wanted.

Time was running even faster. Twinges of orange rays were starting to glow over the horizon. Light of the dawn fast approached, and with it, the final goodbye.

“Hey,” she caught him a second time, shaking his attention back, “Are you alright? We can stop.”

“No, no no no no no,” he sighed, trying to push away the weight in his chest, “Can I… I brought the kit and everything if you really want something super weird and kinky again. But uh, I sort of want to do something else, if that’s alright.”

“We don’t have to have sex.”

“No, uh, that’s not what I mean. I never got to hold you last night. Cherish you, make you feel cared for. I never untied you. That’s my biggest regret of the whole week, right there. I never, uh, fuck this sounds super cheesy, but it’s the truth. I never got to make sweet love to you, and now it’s too late. I’m broken.”

“Sweet? Everything we’ve done this week and your biggest regret is that you never got sweet?” She kissed him gently once more.

“Yeah, yeah I think so. And I can’t do that now. It’s too late. But if it’s alright, I’d like to say goodbye to you. To all of you. One last time.”

“There’s a lot of me to say goodbye to.”

“Then I’ll just have to try my best,” he grinned, kissing her like sugar cane. “Is that alright? I want this to be all about you. Like that first night in the bar. I’ve gotten to know you so well, learned to love you with my whole heart in just a few days. Shit, you’ve fuckin’ seen it. No one’s ever seen my insides before.”

“I really wanted to poke it,” she laughed, placing one finger against his sternum.

“I could tell! You had that look in your eyes. But thank you for not doing that. And thank you for saving me when I went down. For knowing all the right things to say and all the right buttons to push.”

“You need to give yourself more credit, you saved my life, too. You caught me when I was drowning, without hesitation. You told me that my life was worth living when I was a total stranger, someone you were taught to fear. You’re not still afraid of me, are you?”

“No, no way. Never. Okay, maybe a bit. But like, in a super horny kinda way.”

“I can live with that,” Robin smiled against his lips.

He kissed her, soft and slow and kind, hand on her waist squeezing tight. Lips and tongue just barely danced against her own.

“May I say goodbye? One last time?” Franky whispered, trying to gulp down the squeezing in his throat.

“You may.”

“Thank you.”

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The hand that held her steady against the ladder moved to hold her side. He gripped her tight and lifted her to wrap around his body, her legs at his waist and her arms on his neck. The kiss was deep, warm, and full of care. Every cell left in his body focused on keeping the tears back. Not yet. There was work to do first. He could cry after.

Robin was sat down on the table in the middle of the room, facing the eastern windows. The first light of the new day reached over the sea, fingers of sunshine beginning to crawl up the floor of the library. Franky knelt down in front of her, dropping to both his knees. He smiled and adjusted her cowboy hat into a fixed position. Dense, calloused hands traced the side of her face, her neck, and to the collar of her jacket. They slowly, painstakingly, began to push the garment over her chest and down her arms. Once it had slipped over her wrists, he took the coat and folded it, setting it next to her on the table with care.

Then, he returned, playing softly at the lower hem of her blouse. Dexterous fingertips rolled the bottom button first, inching their way up the line. Each clasp opened tenderly, revealing her soft, tan stomach before anything else. Franky relinquished to immediate temptation, kissing the firm muscle and easy folds of skin. He savored his last chance, breath rippling light goosebumps over her belly. He memorized her smell, her taste. Honeysuckles and violets and sweet cherry blossoms. Soap and coffee and fresh soil. Old books and new books and wet ink and leather. Lichen and moss and old bone. Fresh bread and earl grey and dark chocolate and red wine. Sweat and sex and sand and sea spray.

Mechanical hands wrapped over her open collar without him lifting his face, muscle memory overriding. They dragged down bare shoulders and along strong biceps, pushing the soft cotton to drape over her fingers. He ran his touch over her two arms once more, trying to feel anything. Any scrap of warmth, any subtle prickle of her skin, the hairs on the back of her arm. He couldn’t. Contact sensors weren’t nuanced enough, relays too clunky. He couldn’t feel her in the way he wanted, and made his heart scream. He’d tried and he’d tried all week, but even in the end all he could do was hallucinate her body heat.

A blossomed set of fingers, light and manicured, wrapped around his upper arm and squeezed firmly. There, there was the warmth. She ran another hand up his back. The ragged cyborg could finally feel every bump and prickle of her flesh. He focused all his input on every inch of him that still felt human.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, darlin’. It’s my turn to say goodbye,” he rolled into her chest, palms running over her waist and up her back to clasp around the back of her bra.

“Mmmmm true, but how else are you supposed to feel this?” She crooned as the garment was released. The totality of the moment made the man want to cry even more. His lover’s consideration for what he could and could not feel and total knowledge of his body’s odd quirks filled him with elation. He felt every ounce of the intent behind the gesture. Love.

The golden light was halfway across the floor, rising like the tide. Franky brought his face up to rest in the valley of her chest. Not to linger, there would be time for that later, simply to greet. There was a rustling under his shirt and a shift. The hand disappeared, replaced by two soft breasts that pressed themselves tight to him. He felt her stiffen against his shoulder blades as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. The sensation drove him wild. It reminded him of the previous morning, when he’d woken up to her holding him from behind. Delightfully tender, beautifully lush.

“Kinda forgot you coul’ do th’a,” he smiled, face still buried in her bosom.

“How did you manage to forget?”

“Jus’ forgot you coul’ do it with yer boobs. Prob’bly woulda asked to try a boob wall if I’d remembered in time.”

“Boob wall?” She asked with a giggle.

“Yeah, like a wall covered in boobs. Just, y’know, bury m’self in it for a minute.”

“It’s not too late to try.”

Six more soft mounds spawned against his spine. The sensation made him shiver.

“Yeah, it is. ‘M doin’ this right now. But maybe one day. ‘F I ever find ya again? Boob wall.”

His hands found their way back to her hips and the button of her pants. One lifted her up just a little as the other released the closure. The trousers were pulled, first down to her knees, and then to her ankles. The man pulled away for just a moment to slip off her high heeled sandals one at a time, placing them gingerly on the floor next to her. Pants came next, folded and added to the pile with the rest of her clothes.

A leg emerged against his back as he kissed down her thigh. Her knee poked into the knots in his shoulders, toes gripped against his flesh. The sensation made him groan, buzzing along the front of her real calf. The woman lifted herself one last time to remove her satin undergarment. She shimmied them over her hips with extra hands and dropped them past her knees, onto the man’s face. Franky laughed as they made contact with his cheek; he kissed the lingerie, dragging them the final few inches over her ankles with his teeth. The panties, too, were folded and added to the small laundry pile.

He looked up as he made it fully to the floor, laying on his stomach. The goddess above him laughed at his lovestruck expression, goading him gently with her feet to his temple. Robin raised a hand to grip the brim of her hat, but she paused when he grabbed the back of her calf.

“Keep it on,” he smiled, kissing each side of her ankles.

“Oh?”

“Please.”

“You do like the hat, don’t you.”

“Wish I’d known about it sooner so I coulda fucked you proper in it.”

“Mmmmmm, breast wall and advanced cowgirl. Any other tricks you wish we tried?” The woman questioned, prodding his hairline once more.

Bright orange sunshine made the whole floor glow. The sun rose steadily out the big windows, illuminating the room inch by inch. Golden light already swathed the big body on the ground, and it began to journey up the seated woman. A first beam inched over her toes, bringing warmth and comfort.

“Oh, a million different tricks,” the cyborg replied. He kissed the balls of each of her feet, massaging them gently with his thumbs. “If I had a day to waste I would have liked to spend one as your footrest, I think. Let you relax, recline while you read. I think I’d make pretty good furniture.”

“You’re already halfway there,” she chuckled.

“More furniture than man at this point, yeah,” he grinned at the idea. His big mouth traveled down to her heels, fingers still squeezing with tender care. Then, he slid back down to her toes soaked in sunlight, playfully kissing each of them one at the time.

“Is this something you’re interested in?” The archeologist poked lightly at his cheek with one golden foot.

“I could definitely be convinced, ‘specially if you grew a few extras. But we just don’t got the time,” Franky sighed. He winked up at her, giving one a kiss with just the faintest implication of a suck and the smallest flash of tongue. “So for now I just gotta say goodbye,” he adjusted himself to kiss the tops of her feet, fingers tracing tan lines etched by her favorite sandals. He punctuated his words with a kiss, “goodbye. Goodbye. I’ll miss you. I wish I had the time.”

The dawn rose to her ankles, and the man rose with it. He let his lips and tongue contoured around each curve, hands tracing her bones.

“If we’d had a full day without responsibilities, I would have dragged you all over the city until you couldn’t walk any more. And then I would have carried you on my back to everywhere else,” the man dreamed.

“Where did you want to take me?”

“Hmmm. I woulda gotten you up early, maybe got breakfast at a diner. And then we coulda gone to… maybe the aquarium. Or the art museum. Oh, or the history museum. You’d like some of the stuff they got there, some cool artifacts from the old side of town. And then maybe we got coffee or lunch or ice cream. Maybe saw a movie. Or a play. Or I took you to a concert. Or we went dancing.”

“We already went dancing,” Robin giggled as the buzzing rose up her calves. He tucked his knees in but stayed curled low to the ground, so that his hands could massage knots out of muscles always on the run.

“I would go dancing with you a hundred nights in a row, if it got to be like how it was when we danced. No, a thousand nights. A million nights.”

“Two thousand years of dancing?”

“And I’d love every minute of it.”

As the cyborg moved higher, long blue hair pooled over knees and across her bare lap. “I wish I could have taken you everywhere. Goodbye, goodbye,” he sent off both calves, breath hot against her deep skin.

“Your plan sounds quite a lot like a date,” the woman hummed and shifted back and forth. The light massage relaxed her, face releasing a deep set tension.

“Yeah, if I had one more day, I’d take you on every date I could think up. All at once. A… super date.”

“You don’t date.”

“I’m totally able to change my mind,” he teased, mouth trailing the ascending gold up to her knees.

“It’s a trait I’m counting on.”

“Well, maybe don’t hold your breath. I love ya, but I gotta stay. Goodbye, goodbye,” the cyborg’s lips bounced between each cap. His fingers traced and teased the crease on the back of her knees, tickling softly.

“Or,” Franky continued between caresses, “fuck the date noise. If I had one free day without responsibilities I would stay in with you and I’d never see the sun come up or see it go down. We could hole up at my place and never leave the bed. Order a pizza or somethin’. And I’d get my knees more sore than they already are. ’N maybe yours could get a little sore too. And we could just try… everything. Anything your freaky mind can think up, I’d try it.”

She closed her eyes and let her mind wander, crooning, “That bed was making some dangerous sounds, I don’t know if it would survive a day like that.”

“Then we’d break it. And I’d fix it. And then we could break it again. And I’d fix it again.”

“How dedicated.”

“You know it.”

Each knee was pulled apart, opening Robin up with care. Sunshine meandered up her thighs. Warmth covered the whole bottom third of her body. Enraptured hands and lips slid higher too, squeezing and massaging the softest parts of the woman’s legs.

“This, this is the first thing you did. I fuckin’ love it, if I had the time I would want more of this,” the man nibbled at the soft insides, sucking little bruises higher and higher.

“I did?”

“Yeah when you do this,” he indented his fingers into her thighs and pushed them back together, clamping solidly around the sides of his face.

“Ohhhh, like that.”

“Yeah,” He rubbed his face back and forth, letting his hair tickle her stomach, while his sideburns built friction between her legs. “If I had more time I would wanna see if I could get a real, proper burn going. Would loooooove to see it pokin’ out from under your shorts. Let everyone out there know that you got someone who’s eatin’ your pussy super good every night.”

The archeologist only hummed in faint agreement, swimming in the world of her own mind. Knees were separated once again.

“Goodbye,” he kissed the left thigh, “goodbye,” to the right.

“They have been very sore, I won’t lie.”

“Fuckin’ excellent,” the man licked from her mid thigh to the crease of her hip with the flat of his tongue. He blew a long breeze of air at the trail, making her shiver. Light rose to her hips, now enveloping her whole bottom half.

“Now, you,” Franky buried his face between her legs, kissing her vulva and tracing her lips with his own, “you’re getting a proper goodbye last, don’t you worry. I’m not forgetting you, I’ll be back.”

He let his tongue slide in deep, just a bit, just enough to keep her warm. It curled gently, like he was pondering every note.

“Mmm I have a question,” Robin puzzled, running fingers though his hair.

“Shoot.”

“How much can you taste? I mean, I know you can taste, but you said more subtle flavors get lost. How subtle am I?”

“Mmmm good question,” he answered, burying his face a little deeper, trying to put words to the sensation of lapping her up, “I’ll be honest, not a ton. Like, I know what you taste like. I think. Like I just… know, even if the sensors aren’t perfect. I got a pretty good taste when you came down my throat that first night. And when I woke up yesterday and my mouth reset, I recognized that I’d tasted you just before I dropped. But, uh, no. This does not meet the funky style criteria, but I think that’s actually a good thing. Heh.”

“Would you like a real taste?”

“Wha- what? Whadduya mean?”

The woman shifted around his mouth and a hand lifted his chin up. “May I do something a bit… unorthodox?”

“Babe, this whole week’s been unorthodox. What could you possibly do to freak me out more than giant hand flower fucking or that stigmata shit from yesterday?”

“Stick your tongue out, and open your mouth as far as you can.”

He followed her instructions without question. Jaw fell, teeth parted, and his big mouth widened to its fullest up at her. Robin’s smaller head peered down like she was investigating a shark.

“Wha-a-ya-doi’?”

“Is this scar here the seam between the part you built and the original muscle?”

“Yeh.”

“And can you touch your soft palette with your real tongue?”

“Uhhhhh,” he checked, “yeah.”

“Perfect. Do you want a real taste?”

Franky closed his mouth, gulped, and nodded quickly.

“Good. This is going to feel strange, let me know if you start to choke, alright? But you won’t be choking as much as your brain is going to tell you that you are, so just relax. And don’t touch your uvula.”

Another hand ran through his hair. The cyborg jolted as he felt the demon sprout on the roof of his mouth. The sensation felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, labia grown in a location they had no right being in. He gulped, but the action brought the back of his tongue dragging against her and she moaned.

“Wha-tha-fuh?!”

“Can you taste that?”

The cyborg paused and ran the back of his tongue over her once more. Then twice more. He prodded within her with the artificial tip, but then quickly returned to massaging her with true muscle. The woman squirmed under his hands, enjoying some strange aspect of being eaten out from inside his mouth.

“Oh,” she mewled in pleasure.

A trickle escaped the real cunt in front of his face. A similar spring began to flow down his original tastebuds.

“Mmmmmmmf, yeh! Oh muh goh,” he rolled his eyes involuntarily, savoring sweeping back and forth over her wetness.

“Do I taste like how you thought I did?”

“Uuuumf, yeh. Bu- lie-mo, ya no?

“I can’t quite understand you.”

“Ee-oo’ah- ood. ‘Inda-lie-you buh mo- nooahn.”

Robin doubled over laughing, unable to parse a single word of what the man was attempting to convey. He coaxed her again and again, as fingers slid up her thigh to tease her real entrance.

“I-u’ckin- ‘ove-is. I- ‘ove-‘ow- you- as’e. ‘Oly it. U’ckin- ‘ove- you. ‘Ank you. U’ckin ‘ank you. I- onna- iss-ah- da- eaky it.”

His tongue make two last rounds and then he swallowed as much of her down as he could eke out. When his eyes reopened they were dark and blown, loving his more direct taste of her.

“What sort of sommelier would you be if you never got a true sample?”

He growled from the back of his throat in response, and the rumble made her twitch. The finger teasing her slid inside slowly, and he brought the less sensitive tip of his tongue down to greet her, pleasuring the devil’s cunt twice with the same long muscle. She seized a bit, overstimulated by doubled input.

“Have you had enough?”

“Oh, eh’va. Eed-‘ore, ‘oreh’va. Ease. ‘Ore.”

“You’re running out of time.”

The cyborg glanced up her body. Sunlight hadn’t paused its journey when he had, and now most of her belly glowed with the brilliance.

“Oh, ‘it. ‘Uck. Oh’ay. You ‘an ‘e’ease it,” he tried to say. The pad of his tongue licked one final sweep over her phantom folds.

“Alright. Lean your head forward, I don’t want you to choke on the petals.”

Franky pulled his mouth away from her, tilting his head forward. His nose stayed against her clit, sending the buzz back into her core, but his mouth hung open toward the tile ground.

“Oh’ay.”

“Alright, good.”

He spit out three soft, pink flowers with a hearty laugh. “Damn! That was somethin’ else! How do you keep thinkin’ up so many cool ‘n freaky things to do?” The man smiled and returned to kissing her skin, dropping quick pecks over her stomach to make up for lost time.

“Your restrictions give me a nice puzzle to solve, I get to think about how to overcome each challenge. I want you to taste, I want you to touch. Even if the result from the outside is a bit… freaky,” she sang, fingers riffling through his hair again.

“Fuck you’re so good to me, you’re so kind. No one thinks about it like you do,” he peppered up and down her stomach. “Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye,” his big mouth whispered repeatedly. Lips and tongue and the faintest hint of teeth pulled at her skin. The digit still inside her worked her open, her belly a shuddering wall between his hand and his face. Her head rolled back and short, dark hair draped behind her shoulders. The hat almost fell off but an extra hand caught it and held it in place.

“Eh, one more. Goodbye,” he blew a raspberry into the softness just above her belly button, savoring her laugh like a delicious wine.

The light crept up her chest, luminous over her breasts. Franky’s free hand followed the configuration of the beam, molding around her body.

“And you, oh you two I’ll miss the most. Beautiful, absolutely stunning. The best I’ve ever seen. The greatest pair of tits I’ve ever had the pleasure of entertaining. It has been an honor to get to see you every day. Just like, shit what’d you call ‘em? From your book? Pillows of dough? Maybe I’ll be a baker in the next life,” he laughed.

“No!” Robin chuckled, pushing his head slightly in jest.

“Mmmm okay, maybe not. And maybe I never get to see the boob wall. That’s alright. This was enough. This was more than enough. I’m never going to forget you. For the rest of my life. And maybe the next. And probably the one after that. You have burned yourselves into my mind. Ugh and- and how they looked all tied up yesterday? Fuckin’ incredible. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Lips locked around one nipple, tongue swirling her into hardness. The finger inside her grew nimble and clever, gracing nerves that made her twitch.

“It wasn’t enough time. It would have never been enough time,” the man whispered as he crossed to the other half of her chest. “Not enough time to love you how I wanted to. Not enough time. Fuck, you’re spectacular. Beautiful. Beautiful. Thank you.”

He kept her to his face, his lips, his nose, his forehead as he savored one final pull, one last suck, and a glint of teeth. Franky inhaled against her skin, trying to feel what he could while he still had the chance.

“Alright. I gotta go, I’m out of time. But know that I love you. The both of you. Goodbye. Goodbye.”

One final gentle kiss met each dark nipple. The archeologist shuddered, goosebumps blooming over her molten skin. She tightened a bit around his hand when he ran his thumb around her clit, biting back soft moans.

“Shhh not yet, I ain’t done sayin’ goodbye.”

He beat the sunrise to her collarbone, trying to make up for lost time. His mouth retraced every mark, every bruise, every splotch he’d left over the course of the week. The totality served as aching reminders of all their encounters. They were evidence of the secret, undeniable proof that she was real, touched, savored.

“Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye.”

The cyborg licked down her clavicle to her shoulder, nibbling on the high points.

“And goodbye to you, too.”

Franky turned, running his lips down a strong bicep to the crease in her elbow and then to her wrists. His free hand picked up her second one and brought them both together.

“Now, these… these have changed my entire life. I’ll tell you that. I think your hands in particular have ruined sex with literally anyone else in the whole world for me. No one can even come close to touching me like you do. Holy shit, I might actually miss these the most, don’t tell the others. Can’t have your boobs gettin’ jealous of your hands. Goddam, everything about your hands, all of your hands, it’s rocked my world. Thank you.”

Each slender, pristine finger was sucked one at a time, down a line in a row. When he got to the tenth he cracked one eye open and looked at the squirming goddess that he pleasured.

“Can I say goodbye to the third?”

“Mmmm,” she barely answered, but brought out another. He kissed her palm and suckled on her first two digits. 

“Goodbye. And a fourth?”

His request was fulfilled.

“Goodbye. And again?”

She laughed, “just how many do you plan on saying goodbye to?”

“As many as you’ve used. So my guess is, maybe, two hundred? Is that alright?”

“You don’t have time for two hundred goodbyes.”

The sun covered her bare shoulders and began to climb up her neck. She was right. There wasn’t time for all the goodbyes he wanted to deliver.

In the end, Robin gave him ten extra hands. He whispered a farewell into each palm, picking a different finger to kiss each time.

“Thank you. Thank you. Goodbye, goodbye.”

All ten disappeared into a cloud of floral fluff, dancing though the early morning air and coming to rest on the cool tile floors. Franky picked her original hands back up and lathered them in final kisses. His mouth addressed every inch, every scar, every callous, every space between digits. He traced the lines of her palms with his tongue. Heart, fate, head, life, and back around again. Gentle fingers outlined the bandage that she had applied over the cut from the night before.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Thank you for saving me, for helping me. I love your hands. I love them so much. I love you. Goodbye… goodbye… goodbye.”

Franky shifted to stand, though he rolled over in a half fold at his hips. He kissed back up to the crook of her neck, then reacquainted himself with her jaw one last time. His busy finger caught a good groove and a nice rhythm deep between her legs. The woman around him hummed and sighed and moaned. Vocal cords sung under his lips like beautiful morning birdsong.

“Good… bye,” he harmonized back, low fry rattling her neck with just as much gusto. His big, free hand rose to the side of her face, cupping it against his as he raised himself up for the final ascent. The sunrise crossed her jaw, her ears, her lips, but the man’s big head blocked the light and kept her in shadow. Backlit, his turquoise halo crashed like the waves against the shore.

“Goodbye,” he kissed her chin, thumbing over each divot and dimple.

“Goodbye,” just past each corner of her mouth, in her smile lines.

“Goodbye,” to the tip of her nose.

“Goodbye,” to the strong arch down the middle.

“Goodbye,” to one blushing cheek.

“Goodbye,” to its rosy twin.

“Goodbye,” whispered gently in her ear.

“Goodbye,” softly in the other.

“Goodbye,” to her bottom lashes, kissing away tears that were probably from the pleasure, but he liked to think they were for his send off.

“Goodbye,” to her eyelids, “I will never forget the color of your eyes. All one thousand of them.”

“Goodbye,” to each of her eyebrows.

“Goodbye,” to the gap between them.

“And… g-goodbye,” into her bangs, under the brim of her hat. He lingered there last, trying to keep himself together, willing to hold his composure for just a little longer. They were almost out of time, almost out of goodbyes to say. The man took one shaky breath and began to lower himself back down to his knees.

Franky had reached her stomach when a hand caught his chin.

“You forgot to say goodbye here, too,” she whispered, kissing him softly.

“Nah, it’s just not the end for them quite yet. I’m sayin’ goodbye to those when everything else is all said and done.”

Robin hummed and nodded, letting the man finish his descent and find his way back into her lap. The delicious sunshine flooded the library, covering everything in oranges and reds and pinks and golds. Her whole body felt gilded and warm; smooth, malleable, conductive. The sun was blindingly bright, now shining directly in her face. She tipped her head down so that the brim could cast a cool shadow. Her eyes locked onto the pooling hair like waves on the shore that began to lap once again.

Lips returned to her clit, wrapping around her and beginning their final siege. His tongue attacked like a weapon, finding every weak point in her cold armor. A second finger slid right in, filling her as far as she thought she could go.

“Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye…”

Each farewell lingered in her nerves and swept over her cunt. Every twitch, ever flick, every buzz of electrons that had caught her attention in the first place arced up through her body. Robin’s real hands gripped the sides of his hair. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her throat choked with emotions she couldn’t comprehend, like she was drowning all over again.

He was like a little fuzzy insect, rubbing himself against pistil and anther, turning nectar into sweet honey. Buzzing. She wanted more. She wanted to negate every goodbye he had issued. She wanted to take him. She wanted to take him with her. To dance again, to never take an eye off of him, to watch his hands, to watch him make repairs, to open him up and see his heart beat once more, to stayed tied around him, to tie him to her.

Her lover’s tongue rolled, his mechanical fingers twitched. Maybe it was okay to be greedy. She had the hands, she could move a couch across town on her own.

Or maybe she didn’t need to be. Maybe the time for hiding was over. The opportunity to reach out had drawn closer. She wasn’t the only one who cared for him. Loved him.

Maybe love needed to be a little greedy. Maybe it wasn’t enough to have a library all for herself that he was already filling with memories of pleasure. Or a soundproofed workshop where she already haunted the walls, built on a boat made of boards he had stripped thinking of her. He had drafted the blueprints with her essence in his veins on the desk where he had taken her first.

There was never any other way this could go, she decided as he dove further within her. She was a greedy pirate after all. She knew what she wanted. There was no room for guilt. He said he wouldn’t resent it. He said the couch was free to be taken.

The sun broke away from the sparking water. It now glowed fully in the sky above the sea, amply filling the windows. The golden spotlight shone right on her. A third finger found her soaked vulva, slowly, achingly stretching her beyond any limits she thought she had. He licked and he buzzed and he spat on his hand to keep her flowing, industrious as ever. The tile floors were doing their job as their designer had planned.

Robin thought of all the rooms he had built, clearly with fucking the hell out of her on his mind- the bathhouse to hold her so she couldn’t drown, the workshop with the hardpoints to keep them tied up, her bedroom with soft sheets that were easy to wash, a forty thousand gallon tank to transfix eyes, and every other trick up his gaudy little sleeves. It was impossible to think of anyone else using them, but it would be such a shame to leave them ignored.

Each of his fingers pulled her in every direction. There was still so much she wanted to do. The footrest idea sounded fun. They’d never applied their combined academic minds to the development of those prototypes.

His mouth shifted, tongue contorting to lick her as far back down his tongue as he could get. Franky tasted her with original muscle.

“…goodbye, goodbye, goodbye…”

She hadn’t realized he’d been talking the whole time. He rambled nervously, repeating last inputs, final outputs.

“D-do you want me to f-finish?” Robin asked in a trembling voice.

“This ends when you come,” her lover whispered against her.

“Do you want me to- ah- finish?”

“Never.”

“Th-that’s all I needed to hear.”

The woman squeezed her eyes shut, but the light was so intense that it simply turned her whole world red behind her lids.

He didn’t want it to end either. He said so.

So then, why should it?

Why not be greedy?

Another pull of his long tongue. She ached for release, to be free, to take him everywhere she could.

The pressure built.

One day to go.

Bright blue eyes flew open, but Robin couldn’t see. The blinding light of the morning sunlight barreled straight toward her. Her whole world big and bright- golden in the center and turquoise in periphery.

She gasped for air. Butterflies stirred like pollinators deep in her belly, dripping nectar.

The sun burned her eyes.

Her body felt aglow.

The demon’s head fell back, the hat fell off. One big palm reached up blind, but held her cheek on instinct.

No way to hide from the dawn, now.

“F-Franky?”

“Mmm?”

“Would you love me if I was greedy?”

“Forever.”

Robin tightened around his grasp and found her finale. She shuddered on a tongue that felt so human but fucked with the precision of a machine. Her eyes were blinded by the sunshine, her chest rolled forward like a wave. Nerves like superconductors, bones like magnets. She danced, she sang, she rippled with the flow that filled her every vein. All senses, all at once. Salt and sweet and bitter and acid and umami on her tongue. Pollination, not for honey, but for bearing fruit. Figs and apples and lemons, sweet like sugar and born under the shining sun. Grapes that became sweet wines. Trees that grew cinnamon bark and blossoms that became cloves. Sugar cane that only grew in the tropics near the sea.

She basked in the morning star, photosynthesizing.

❀❀❀❀❀

“Good. G-goodbye. Goodbye. Thank you. Good-b-bye.”

The final three kisses lingered against her trembling lips. Fingers released their mechanical grip. He needed just a few more moments. Prayed for an encore. But the house lights were on.

You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.

Franky wiped his cheeks, hoping she thought his face was wet from her alone.

“You forgot to say goodbye to my back,” the archeologist hummed, laying down on the table so that he couldn’t easily add the post script.

“I was always bad at reaching that part. Turn over?”

“No, I don’t think I will. I would prefer if there was a corner of the map that remained unfinished. An… incomplete farewell.”

He laughed and stood up on shaky legs, “Yeah, alright. I’d be okay with that. For next time.”

“For next time.”

“Shit, it’s super fuckin’ bright in here, yeah?”

A big hand picked up the stetson and plopped it on top of the woman’s face. The cyborg took a moment to wipe his tears on his shirt while her vision was obstructed.

“The sun came up while you were hard at work. Are we out of time?” She asked, sitting up and fixing the hat to sit in a more standard position.

“Uhhhhh,” he squinted at the little clock on the drafting desk, “it’s uhh- oh shit! It’s only six, we got a whole ass hour before I gotta start work!”

“Round two?” Robin laughed, though she pulled her little pile of clothes onto her lap.

“Uhhh I kinda liked the note we ended on. You wanna just like, chill?”

“Chill?”

“Yeah! It’s a super pretty sunrise, I brought some snacks and shit. You want tea? I was thinkin’ of making tea.”

“You drink other beverages?”

“I like tea. In moderation. When I’m in the mood.”

“I think I’d love a cup of tea, yes,” she nodded.

“‘Kay, I’m gonna go to the kitchen and get the kettle goin’. Toilet and sink are up the ladder, if you want. Water’s already pumpin’, but the shower and bath aren’t ready. Sorry,” Franky pointed to the ceiling.

“That’s fine. Thank you. And thank you for the send off, I had a wonderful time.”

“I’m real happy I got to say goodbye.”

“You said it quite a lot of times.”

“So then why’s it still feel like I haven’t said it enough?”

Robin stepped out of the water closet, readjusted and fully dressed. She took a cheeky look into the bathing room, clocking the size of the massive tub. This was about to be the easiest heist of her life, she thought.

Something heavy landed on the roof above, startling her. Dense footsteps paced around the circle. More, lighter objects dropped onto sturdy wood. The archeologist washed her hands and checked her bangs in the crystal clear, new mirror. The cowboy hat covered most of the sex hair. Not that it mattered. She grabbed a towel from a little shelf and tucked it under her arm before heading back down into the library- her library.

The fresh towel met the spill on the ground. Tile floors did their job. She shot one last smile in a circle at all her glowing tomes. Hands grazed the plush, circular couch. It already felt like home.

The archeologist walked out the door into the little rooftop garden. It was a pleasant spot; she could see herself spending quite a lot of time in this part of the ship. Blue eyes turned to find the man on the roof of the hemispherical building, right where his footsteps had reverberated.

“Ow! She’s back! Come on up!” Franky yelled down at her with a wave.

“How did you get up there?” Robin laughed, angling her hat to block the bright sun.

“Uhhhh, you go up the ratlines, across the boom, and then ya drop down.”

“Hm,” she frowned, looking up at the new masts and sails. Instead of following his directions, she walked up to the wall and sprouted two lines of arms. Her own hands grasped each other, lower palms boosting her up as she climbed the fleshy ladder.

“Or, uh, you could do that, I guess,” the man stared in horror and surprise as she ascended. He held out one big hand over the railing to guide her up the last few feet, pulling her onto his little spot.

The bedrolls, blankets, and pillows from his tent had been relocated to the roof. A pink box of simple looking pastries sat next to the hot water kettle and two little steaming mugs of tea.

“What’s all this?” Robin raised one eyebrow.

“’S what it looks like! Tea, breakfast, that kinda crap. C’mon, join me!” The big cyborg laughed and sat down on the quilt, gesturing for her to sit. She took the invitation and reclined, curling up against his dense chest.

“This is lovely, you planned all this?”

“I had a lotta time to think when I was finishing the library. Wanted to do somethin’ special for our last day, and to make things up to you for yesterday. But I didn’t know how long we’d be fuckin’ for, honestly. Super glad we still got the time.”

“So your idea of both a first date and a perfect morning is… tea and croissants and watching the sunrise? That seems like an odd choice for you,” she smirked but took a little baked good from the box.

“I’m not the only one on this date! And uh, yeah. Kinda. We spent so much time sneakin’ around in the middle of the night, but we never got to see the sun come up. Just wanted to do it once, ya know?” A big hand ran through her hair, over her shoulders, and pulled her in tight. Pinks and yellows from the sun in the clouds bounced over her raven bangs. He let himself have one kiss against her temple before reshuffling to find his things.

“‘Ere ya go,” Franky handed her one of the mugs, taking the other for himself.

“Thank you, Franklin.”

“You’re super welcome, Robert.”

“Mmm, so, explain the beverages thing to me. You have the capacity to drink tea?”

“I have the capacity to drink any beverage I want. And sometimes, if I wanna chill out, I don’t mind a little herbal tea.”

“Fascinating.”

“Oh! Uh, actually, speakin’a chillin’ out, do you mind if I- er,” he made a gesture with two digits to his lips.

“You smoke? I didn’t know that.”

“Uhhhhh not really how you’re thinkin’. Not like your skinny little chef guy. I, uh, have been known to partake when the mood is right,” the man pulled out a little paper roll he’d stored behind his ear with a cheeky wink.

“Oh, I see. I don’t mind.”

“Cool, cool, yeah,” he said as he rolled to his knees and stood back up. His big body leaned against the railing of the ship. “Don’t have a…” he muttered as he tapped himself down for a lighter, spending a little too long double checking his swimsuit. The cyborg shrugged and turned to the sea. He blew out a mild stream of fire in the opposite direction of his brand new vessel, using it to light up.

“Sorry, did you just use a flamethrower to light a joint?” Robin giggled and took a sip of her tea.

“Uh, hell yeah I did. And you thought it was super cool, yeah?”

“Mm, something like that,” she rolled her eyes with a smile.

He took a long drag and sat back down on the blanket, picking his mug back up.

“Sho- tha’ bevs fing,” Franky tried answering with the smoke in one side of his lips. He took another inhale and reclined a bit, placing it back between his fingers. A phantom hand plucked it from him and his companion took a deep pull herself.

“Yes, this is the most interesting thing I think I’ve learned about you. Please continue.”

“It’s for all drinks. But it’s a quantity thing. So I can have a little of whatever I want, but I also clearly play favorites.”

“Everything in moderation,” she laughed and handed the roll back to him.

“‘X’actly! I get a super icky reaction to aspartame tho, so I try ’n avoid it. Gums up the works.”

“What happens when you drink alcohol?”

“Same thing that happens to everyone else!” He laughed and took another inhale. “’S kinda why I prefer uh, other methods of having fun. My whole personality doesn’t become Tequila. Eh, okay, Vodka Franky’s a fun time. Maybe you’ll see him one day.”

“I hope I do,” Robin smiled, buzzing a little at the mental image of them putting away a bottle of the clear liquor in one night.

“If you play your cards the way I think you might, you might even see the return of Rum Franky tomorrow,” he chuckled, handing the joint off.

“Oh? What’s that mean?” She tried to hide her smile by blowing smoke away from him.

“Eh. Nothin’ much.”

“So,” the archeologist attempted to change the subject before she revealed her hand by accident, “the way you joke, I’m willing to wager that Franklin is not your full name.”

“Oh, shit, you don’t know my name, do you? You didn’t hear that dickbag say it like, a hundred times back at prison?”

“No, I wasn’t listening to a word he said,” she laughed, handing the smoke back to her lover, “May I guess your name or would that be rude. Unless it’s your old old name. I wouldn’t want to-“

“Ha! Nah,” the man took another long pull, “it’s not the name my parents called me, if that’s what you’re gettin’ at. That name I take to the grave. My full name is much stupider than that, you’re never going to guess it.”

“Oh, oh you’re right he did say it, didn’t he? The mayor and the foreman said it, too. Oh what was it,” she wracked her hazy memory. “F…F…” bright blue eyes stared at the pink pastry box, “Flan?”

“Ha!” Franky keeled over, curled up on his side, unable to stop laughing. “Yeah,” he wheezed, “that’s close enough. It’s, uh, Flam. But like, please, please, please never call me that. I picked out when I was a kid but all I knew about were boats so I just went with like, boats.”

Robin teased, two phantom hands and a mouth taking her hit on her behalf, “as opposed to now? In which you know…”

“I know like, at least six other things that aren’t boats, okay! I know, uhhhhhh, I know rockets.”

“For boats.”

“I know… fuck, what kinda stuff do I know?”

They both laughed.

“How is your nickname longer than your first name?”

“’S a portmanteau. I think? I dunno, I don’t speak the language the rest of the guys speak,” he frowned and took the roll from the offering limb.

“You’re not from this island originally,” the archeologist observed.

“Psh, howdja tell?”

“Your accent, you said the other day that you hadn’t spoken Southern since you were a kid. You’ve still held onto the affectation, it’s very interesting. Unique.”

“Ding, ding,” he nodded, “You’re too smart. You’re so smart. And you’re so pretty. Ugh. You’re super fuckin’ pretty.”

She blushed and tried to put her hat on his head.

“It ain’t gonna work, my hair’s too erect.”

“I’m shocked you didn’t break that, too.”

“Uh, me? I am not the one that broke my dick. How the fuck did you manage to break it that bad anyway? The hell did you do to him?”

Robin giggled, “I was mad you weren’t giving me attention and I remembered you said your balls were the most sensitive part on the Favorite. So I spent a few minutes squeezing them as hard as I could.”

“You brat!” His jaw dropped and he bumped her with his shoulder, “that’s like, properly super evil!”

“Guilty,” she laughed, “though in hindsight, I wouldn’t have done it if I knew it was going to almost kill you.”

“Oh, that’s super good to know, thanks for the consideration.”

“You’re not a CBT sort of man? We never really tried that.”

“Uhhhhh I could be, but I’d just need like, a warning first!”

Franky peered, looking for the joint. He found it and inhaled, offering it back with incredulity. The woman shook her head and relaxed into the pillows with her tea. He took one last drag, coughing just a little before putting it out by squeezing the end between two metal fingers.

“Wait,” he giggled in the haze of the drug and curled up with his head in her lap, “Okay, wait. If, heh, if you put the strap on on. Hehehe, and I wore literally no attachments, all closed off. Ha, but, you had my dick in the strap. And you opened your pussy on me down there. And then we boned like that. Who would be fucking who?”

She burst out laughing at the mental image of them swapping bits, “Oh that would be very fun!”

“I don’t think two people could get any closer than that! That’s like, super sex, ya know? WAIT!” Franky immediately rolled back back up after just settling into a comfortable position.

“What?”

“Forgot something,” he squinted over railing to find one of his many bags left on the upper deck. “Ughhhhhh, I don’t wanna go back down,” the big man whined, resting his chin on the bannister.

“Do you need it?”

“Uhhhhhh lemme just,” the cyborg unhooked his right hand and dropped it two stories by the chain. Franky muttered to himself as he tried to catch the parcel, “It’s like a super big claw game. Gonna get you that teddy bear.”

“How generous!”

“Anything for you, pretty lady.”

It was like a claw game in the sense that he left empty handed, disappointed, and frustrated- fighting with the machine within him the entire time. He flopped back down onto the pillows after a few minutes of trying.

“Do you want me to get it?” The archeologist offered with a smile.

“But I’m… But I’m a man!”

“There’s no gender bias to getting scammed by a claw machine. It happens to everyone,” she giggled, crawling to the railing herself. The big, black case sat prominently in the middle of the soon-to-be-garden, and it did not take nearly as much effort for her many hands to pass the baggage up to the roof.

“Ugh you’re super fucking cool. Thank you,” the man laughed through his bruised ego. He grabbed the large case and flipped the two metal latches open.

“What sort of a penis are you about to show me now?” Robin dropped her jaw in fake amazement.

“Oh my god, could you imagine?!” He laughed with his whole chest as he lifted his guitar out of its protective covering. Waves of blue hair found her lap again, and the big body finally settled to stare up at the sky. He didn’t say anything, and he did not begin to play the guitar. His eyes grew dazed and unfocused, absorbed in the woman drinking her tea above him.

“Do you know any songs?” She asked, running her nails over his scalp.

“Nope!”

That made her laugh. He never wanted to leave the spot, the moment, the body. She was music enough.

“Uhhhhhh hey I’m not usually up this early, I like that you can still see the moon and a few of the planets even though the sun’s coming up, that’s super cool. What time do you usually wake up?”

“A little later than this, but not much. Though, I’m usually not stoned at six thirty in the morning.”

“Huh, weird,” Franky paused, “what do the stars look like at sea?”

“You don’t know?”

“I got these super strong memories of being a kid ’n lookin up at ‘em. It was, shit it was like nothin’ I’ve ever seen. Kinda took it for granted, that’s just what the sky looked like every night. But then I got left in the city. And all the stars went away. It’s too damn bright here. Like, you can see a few, but it’s not super easy to see ‘em. How’s it look on the ocean?”

“On a nice night? There aren’t enough words in any languages to describe how they look. Truly magical. I spend quite a lot of my nights stargazing, actually.”

“That sounds…” he searched for a word that she already knew rested on the tip of his tongue, “super.”

“Mmmmm, it is.”

“Maybe I’ll see ‘em again some day.”

“Maybe,” she hummed, fingers tracing over the tattoo on the arm resting against the guitar’s body.

“I could go to the moon,” the cyborg spoke up after a beat of silence.

“What?”

“Y’know. The moon? Like, in the sky?”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the moon.”

“I heard a story about there being like, little robots that live on it. Maybe if I went they’d make me like, their robot king. That’d be cool. They’d get me. No one in this city fuckin’ gets me like those little moon dudes would get me.”

“Luffy punched a god so hard that he ran away to the moon the other month,” she closed her eyes and relaxed further around the big body.

“Wait, what?! Aw man, he’s gonna beat me there! Ugh, thanks for crushing all my dreams!”

“Yes, that’s the captain, well known dream-crusher. Just tell him you want to go and he could punch you there, if you want it so badly.”

“Ugh, that’s so cool. He’s super cool. And that little dude’s funny as fuck. And he’d do it, too. He could punch me the whole way, I bet.”

Big hands finally strum out one single note on the guitar in punctuation.

Robin’s eye caught a little leather bound book in the corner of her eye, poking out from the dark lining of the guitar case.

“Mmmm what’s this?” She mused, a disembodied hand picking it up and passing it to her.

“Nooooo don’t look at that!”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“I-I mean you can if you want. But it’s super embarrassing, so be nice, okay?” Franky tried to hide his hot cheeks in her thighs.

“What is it?” The woman repeated, putting an extra hand on his face to cool him off.

“M’ sketchbook.”

“You draw?”

“Uh, yeah what do you think blueprints are? I gotta get all my ideas out somewhere else first before I clean ‘em up. I’m better at like, technical rendering.”

“You’re not big on postmodern abstractionism? How odd,” she laughed, opening up the leather cover and flipping through the first few pages.

The first number of sketches weren’t a surprise to her, serving as little fragments of the man’s whole world. His sisters, his friends, his food. Graphite captured a room that vaguely resembled the central space of his house and one that vaguely resembled his bedroom. He was right, it had looked cozier before the demolition. There were scratched out notes, models of gears and cogs and sprockets. Ideas on how to put things together, how to take things apart. His own inner workings, woven around each other in an intricate dance. Guns and equations and formulas for mixing chemicals. Flashes of inspiration were scrawled on Waterburger napkins and shoved into the cracks. Every few turns of her hand, messy writing would possess the paper, filling a half dozen pages at a time with dense words she didn’t have the time to translate. Maybe one day, if there had been more time.

Just over halfway through, though, the sketches shifted. She went from looking at a cute drawing of one of his seahorses, to staring in surprise at a messy charcoal study of a hand. And then another. And a third. The hands filled more and more and more pages, practically bursting out of the book. They twisted at every angle, in motion, gripping, clawing, gently caressing. Then, they formed a monster. A big, graphite daffodil comprised of too many limbs filled a center fold. He’d drawn the beast from memory again and again, committing it to immortality on the page.

Each page captured the woman from a new angle. Hands grew shoulders, grew clavicle, grew neck and jaw and hair. And breasts. She smiled and ran a hand over the man’s exposed chest, following the blush that spread over his pectorals. Many pages- not as many as the hands but still a considerable amount of attention- were sacrificed in the capturing of her breasts. Different angles, different lighting. Then the subject changed once more. Eyes. He’d drawn more eyes than hands, dotted densely over the crisp paper. There were qualities he’d managed to capture in her that she quite liked; stormy darkness, relaxed smiles, shy reluctance. Every emotion she’d given him over the course of the week had all been archived in a box and wrapped up with a bow.

Franky started to slowly strum out one note at a time, soft but a little clumsy.

“These are excellent.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to put you to paper in the way you have for me.”

“You wanna?”

“Hm?”

“I dunno. Like, if you wanted to draw something, you could add it,” he grinned and pulled a pencil from his swimsuit.

“You keep this in there?” She asked with a chuckle.

“I don’t got pockets, where else am I supposed to keep it?”

“You could just wear something with pockets.”

“But then you couldn’t look at my ass all day.”

“Mmmmm, very true. You’re right, it’s a compromise I don’t want to make,” Robin took the utensil from him and flipped the pages to the first blank one. Light scratches of lead filled the air between musical notes.

“Are you going to play something?”

“Uhhhhh yeah this one’s called ‘I Met A Girl And She Punched My Dick To The Moon,’ goes a lil’ somethin’ like this-”

Fingers noodled up and down the frets, choking the neck at all angles. None of the notes had any particular sense of musicality, until he settled into playing the same four notes over and over at different rhythms and intervals.

“Does your song have words? Do you sing?” The archeologist laughed, keeping her eyes on her sketch.

“Shhhh we were just about to get to that bit. It’s progressive rock, ya gotta tease the intro.”

The notes repeated again. Then, the man broke through the spell with a rough, fried voice.

“I met me a girl,

she punched my dick to the moon,

came in from the sea,

now she’s gotta go soon,

I wanted to show her,

this shitty ass town,

but I’m on probation,

for punchin’ a clown.

Ohhhhhh she’s the devil,

but I showed her my heart.

‘Cos we ran from hell,

Blew it down with a- uhhh- fart.”

“Don’t remind me of that,” Robin warned.

“Sorry,” he laughed and kept singing.

“I met me a girl,

she punched my dick to the stars,

I built her a dream ship,

now she’s sailin’ it far.

She’s so fuckin’ stunnin’,

taught me facts about flowers,

time slips away,

I could lay here for hours,

Ooooooo Imma miss ‘er,

I wish I could follow,

but I got some baggage,

so instead I’ll just wallow.”

The key of his song shifted higher with the introduction of new notes.

“Yeah I met me a girl,

she punched my dick to the sun,

it’s been a long week,

and shit, it’s been fun.

But she’s gotta go now,

with her band of pirates,

maybe one day I’ll find her,

-Uhhh, fuck, what rhymes with pirates?”

“Hm, I don’t know. What about ‘try it’? Is that close enough?” His companion offered, rolling extra fingers through his updo.

“Meh, I think that might be all the song I got left in me anyways,” the man laughed but kept playing the notes.

“You sing, you draw, you build complex machinery. Is there anything you don’t do?” Robin asked, glancing between his face and her sketch.

“I exist on a diet of liquid sugar and fast food because I have no clue how to feed myself,” Franky raised both eyebrows in joking seriousness. “Ay!” He perked up, “Can I see whatcha drew?”

“It’s not very good.”

“It can’t be that bad!”

The sketch wasn’t particularly good on a technical measurement, but there was a tenderness captured. Pencil marks outlined a rendition of his own face in her lap, mouth open, eyes closed, presumably mid-song improvisation, though the effect of the final product made it look like man was performing a different action.

“Why do I look like I’m cummin’ super hard?”

“Well, the creation of all art, whether musical or physical, could be compared to something of an orgasm.”

“I- uh- true, I guess.”

“You’re a very talented musician.”

“And you’re a very talented drawer-er,” he replied, thick with sarcasm.

She laughed, “No I’m not.”

“And I’m shit at guitar. Though! I heard a rumor that your crew was looking for a bard?”

“You won’t join as a shipwright, but you’ll be our bard?”

“Uhhhhhhhh well I think that the constant presence of a muse would help me improve my craft. I got that rockstar material, you’ll see.”

“Mmmmmmm oh do you?”

Robin leaned down to kiss him from above, extra hand holding her hat steady. She was tender, savoring what she could of the morning.

“You taste like green tea and butter,” the man muttered absently against her skin, sliding a hand up her arm.

“And you taste like sugar and cannabis,” she laughed back.

He kissed her again for good measure, letting lips and tongue journey once more.

“May I deliver some bad news?” Her phantom mouth whispered near his ear while her real ones stayed preoccupied.

“No,” came the muffled response, “I’m having a perfect morning I can’t get bad news.”

“The mayor’s walking up to the ship.”

“Nooooooo, no, no, no, no, no,” the grown man whined, “He isn’t, he can’t, I don’t wanna go to work, I don’t wanna finish the boat, I don’t wanna say goodbye.”

“I think we have to. I think it’s time.”

He sighed and pulled away, trying to keep his bottom lip steady, “fine, but can we go down the beach a little? I can’t wander far but I’d like to walk you as far as I can, if that’s alright.”

“I’d like that, yes.”

They both stood with slow, impossible reluctance. The cyborg put his guitar back in his case and closed the latches. “Don’t worry ‘bout this, I’ll clean it up. Do your guys want the rest of the food?” He offered.

“I think the cook’s got plans for this morning, you can keep them.”

“Croissants for the construction boys it is!”

“FRANKY ARE YOU ON THE ROOF?” Iceburg yelled from the middle of the deck

“Yeah, bro! We’re comin’ down, I promise!” Franky bellowed back, leaning over the rail.

“WE?! ARE YOU F-”

“Shuddup, bro, just gimme a minute!”

He helped Robin up to the boom, keeping a hand on her waist to maintain balance. They both wove around rigging and ducked under pulleys, eventually landing back down on the main deck.

The mayor did not look particularly pleased to see either of them, his arms folded with stern force.

“After everything we talked about yesterday, you really went and—.”

“Yeah, yeah. We weren’t roof kanoodlin’, I’ll clean everything up. I’m not gonna wander off, we just wanna talk in private, alright?” Franky frowned.

Iceburg opened his mouth like he was going to scold a child “Ka- what? What is she even doing here? Did she just arrive?”

The pirate wandered away from the two men, slowly inching her way toward the gang plank. She took a moment to inspect the rich soil that spread out over the deck. Much too shallow for anything to decompose in. A pity.

“Nah, we’ve been here for hours. I was showin’ her the library. Let me have a minute, please? I’m just wantin’ to say bye to her one last time,” the cyborg’s eyes pleaded. “And hey, guess what?”

“What, Bakanky?”

“You were right!” Franky smiled to the mayor, though his eyes looked far from joyful.

The other man frowned, “Right about...?”

“This is about to hurt like a mother fucker. But that’s just the way it’s gotta be, huh?”

“Nico Robin!” Iceburg spun to look straight at her.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry things went the way they did. It was always inevitable. Maybe in another world, this situation would be different. I don’t take any pleasure in this outcome.”

“We can’t change the past, Mister Mayor, no matter how much we’d like to,” she called back across the deck. “But if it means anything, I am sorry for the part I played.”

“Nico, do you love your crew?”

“The way I feel for my nakama cannot be described in any tongue from any land in any era.”

“Good. They’re a very special group of people. Hold on to that feeling, and never let them go,” Iceburg nodded.

“I don’t plan on it,” she laughed and turned away.

“Five minutes,” the mayor granted his fellow shipwright. “Do not wander off.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, bro. Thanks,” Franky nodded through his hesitation.

The pair shuffled down the gang plank and sifted through the cold morning sand. They paused once they were a good distance from the boat, far away from any inquisitive ears.

“Fuck. Okay. This is it, shit,” Franky muttered under his breath. He felt as he had only once before in his life. Memories of cutting off his own arm in the dark war ship filled his mind. First the left, then the right, then each of his calves. It needed to be done. Maintenance was easy, upgrades hurt. The cyborg held both of his lover's real hands in his, unable to keep the mechanics under his skin from shaking.

“I-."

“Wait,” she interrupted before he could even start, “I want you to have this. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but just to be safe, please take this. I had it made in town the other day, I want you to keep a piece.”

One extra hand fished a scrap of paper adorned with a little pink flower out of her jacket and dropped it in the breast pocket of his button up.

“A vivre card?”

“I don’t know what it is that’s keeping you here, but if you ever work it out, I want you to come find me. Alright?”

“Y-yeah okay. Sounds like a plan.”

“Good,” she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Uhhh, my turn. Okay. Nico Robin, I have had the time of my life this week. You make me feel more cared for, more happy, more- more super than anyone else in the entire world. You changed some stuff in my brain. And I’m gonna miss you every day until the day I find you again. But I will find you again. Some day. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next year, But I’m gonna do it. I have loved every moment I have spent with you this week. Thank you.”

The longer he talked, the harder it became to keep himself from choking up. “I’m glad there’s someone like you in the world. Go find your treasure. Enjoy your library. Savor being alive. Learn everything there is to learn. Keep my baby afloat. Sail safe. Fuck, please be careful in the New World, holy shit. Think of me in every single room on that ship.”

“I think that’s unavoidable. Your seasoning’s all over that boat,” she laughed, squeezing her eyes tight.

“It’s that funky style skeeze, you’re never gonna shake it now,” he harmonized, though his low chuckles were much shakier.

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

“Alright. I gotta go. This was… incredible. The time of my life, really. I’ve had a fuckin’ super week with you. I- fuck it, I’ll say it again. I love you. I’m always gonna love you, wherever you are out there. G- fuck! G-good-.”

He wanted to lift his hand to wipe his cheek, but he didn’t want to sacrifice holding her to do so. A phantom limb sprouted from his shoulder and wiped it for him. His lips kissed the palm one last time, before it scattered into the ocean breeze.

“Th-thank you. Goodbye,” Franky raised one big palm to cup the side of her cheek a final time. He leaned down to kiss her, slow, languid, loving. Like the buds of snap dragons, freezing and falling with the coming winter. Like carbon dioxide, popping into the atmosphere and rising to the heavens. Like sea foam, landing on the sand and fading away. Time continuing its violent cycle, bringing lovers together and pulling them apart. The moon that pulled the tide set over the horizon to magnetize new waters. The sunrise migrated past the dawn, now a morning star high in the sky. An inhale, an exhale.

“Goodbye,” he whispered one last time.

“I’m going to see you very soon,” Robin whispered back, “I know it.”

“Shhhhh. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Let me have this. Let me be greedy right now. I want to say goodbye.”

“Alright,” she relented, “Alright. Goodbye. I will see you soon. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

Franky offered one last press against her bangs, a final kiss against her lips, and a thumb over her cheek. He nodded to himself, eyes squeezed closed. Time stopped within his big, mechanical world.

“Yeah. Goodbye.”

His shoulders shook hard. When he opened his eyes again, she was gone. Like the flash of spring, like sakura on the wind, like high tide. He turned, lumbering back up to the gang plank and boarded his dream once more to finish the work he’d set out to do.

“HEY!” A beautiful voice shouted from a ways up the beach. He spun with a hope he hadn’t realized he’d been fostering. Robin waved from her distance, “YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR GUARD UP TOMORROW! I HEARD A RUMOR THAT THERE’S VICIOUS PIRATES IN THE AREA, AND THEY’RE LOOKING FOR THEIR TREASURE!”

“OH, YOU FUCKIN’ KNOW IT! I’M SO GUARDED I’M LIKE A SUPER FUCKIN’ TANK OVER HERE! AIN’T NO PIRATES STEALIN’ MY SHIT IN MY TOWN!” He yelled back. The woman’s laugh floated on the breeze.

“GOODBYE!” She waved one last time.

“SEE YOU SUPER SOON!” He screamed back with two wrists clapped above his head. He hoped she couldn’t see the way he trembled or the way the tears had begun to pour. Franky pulled himself away from the railing with more strength than he’d ever used in his life. He crossed to the starboard side, staring out at the sea, away from the city. The sobs overflowed from his system, unable to be controlled. He braced himself on the fence, letting his tears flow into the sea.

The cyborg practically jumped out of his synthetic skin when a hand rubbed the middle of his back.

“Wha-!”

“Hey, man. I’m sorry. You look— you actually cared about her, yes?” Iceburg looked his brother in the eye.

“I-I f-fuckin’ love that d-demon w-w-woman,” he wailed, head falling on the mayor’s shoulder.

“It’ll be okay. It’ll be alright,” the older man assured, wrapping his hands around broad shoulders in a comforting hug.

“I- She- It- We-“ Franky stumbled over his thoughts, unable to string them together. The wound too fresh to start fixing up his fractured heart. Bits and pieces weren’t quite ready yet for tinkering, still too hot from the smelting. The cyborg wept toward the sea, consoled by the only scrap of approximate family he had left.

“Hey, Bakanky?”

“Y-yeah, Bakaburg?”

“Why do you reek of pot?”

Robin had her hands full in the sunset glow of the backstreets. Luffy ran around the party in circles, bouncing with the anticipation of leaving in the morning on his new ship. Zoro was having a hard time walking down the sidewalk in a straight line without wandering. Chopper clopped at her heels, vibrating with a sugar high after candy from the street vendors.

“Okay!” The captain cheered, corralling the little party like an overexcited sheep dog, “Sanji’s getting food and meat and stuff, that’s gonna go to the ship. Nami’s making the map with the old fish lady, she’s gonna get us to Fishman Island. Zoro, I’m sorry they didn’t have any cheap magic swords for sale, but you’ll find one soon! Uhhhh Chopper do you have all the medicines?”

“I have what I need!” The reindeer answered with a jittery nod.

“Cool! Okay so that just leaves Us-“ Luffy caught a glare from the swordsman, “I mean, we see if he wants to apologize tonight. Or tomorrow morning.”

“Are you all set, Robin? Anyone- uh- anything you’ve got left to do?” Zoro asked, flashing a wicked side eye.

“No, I think I’m done in this town. I said all the goodbyes I needed to say.”

He laughed once at her answer, like he didn’t believe her.

“Wait! Crap!” Luffy turned around in the street, walking backward. The archeologist kept an eye out to make sure he didn’t trip into anyone. “When are we supposed to meet Franky? Is he just gonna be down at the ship?”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t be so sure, captain. He sounded very convinced that he was staying here,” she answered, tone flat. Zoro snickered again.

“That’s not cool! What the hell?!”

“Wait, he built the boat but he’s staying behind? Why would he do that? Does he not like us?” The doctor popped into the conversation.

“He said he has some debts and responsibilities to handle first, and then he’d consider finding m- us eventually. He cares for his own Family too much, and he doesn’t want to give them up,” the archeologist frowned, trying to gloss over her slip.

“Did something happen with you and him yesterday? Is that why you were so sad last night?” The captain frowned, almost tripping on a loose cobblestone.

Dammit, she’d hoped that hadn’t caught on to the cause of her melancholy. “Something like that. He told me he was determined to stay yesterday, and his position did not change when we… talked things through again this morning.”

Zoro stopped to wheeze, trying to cover the laugher with a fake cough.

“Swordsman, don’t stop moving. You’ll get lost,” she sent a warning glance his way.

“Like a shark!” Luffy proclaimed.

“Like a shark, exactly.”

The shipwright's excuse wasn’t enough to tide the straw hatted boy over, “But his reasons are laaaaaame, didja tell him that?”

“Oh, I was very convincing.”

Another wheeze, another warning.

“So just tell him again! Or I can talk to him! Where is he?” The rubber boy looked around like they were just going to run into the cyborg.

“He doesn’t want to see us, captain, and he’s busy finishing our ship for us.”

“Well,” Zoro rejoined the rest of the group before they got too far, “you said you were down to just steal him, right? So why don’t we do that?”

“We’re gonna steal a robot?! Cooooooool!” Luffy cheered, “How do we steal a robot?”

It was Robin’s turn to stop and think.

“Ay,” the green haired man teased, “don’t stop moving. You might wander off and get lai-“

The devil flashed warning glare number three. Struck out.

“Captain, if we do this, it’s because it’ll be what you want. You’re sure you want to take him with us?” She asked, attempting to keep the shake out of her words.

“Uh duh! It’d be soooooo coooool! No one else is gonna be able to fix the boat like he can. His Family boys want him to go with us, too! It would make you really happy. And! Then we would have a ROBOT!”

“A ROBOT!” Chopper echoed.

“Technically he’s a-“

“Hey, what smells so good?” The captain cut her off.

All four pirates looked up at the gently buzzing neon Waterburger sign.

Many hands pounded on the inside of the window, threatening to crack the glass.

“Aaaaaayyyyyy Robiiiiiiiiin!” Three muffled but familiar voices yelled from the other side of the portal into the dining establishment. Mozu, Kiwi, and Zambai all sat at the big table, faces pressed to the glass, waving at her.

The archeologist sighed, but recognized an opportunity when she saw one. She turned to her crew, resolution written all over her face, “Are you boys hungry?”

“YES!!”

“Yeah, I could eat.”

“Not really. I just had candy.”

Robin pointed them to the door of the restaurant. The little bell above the door chimed as the pirates stepped through.

“Hey!” Tiff yelled, somehow more properly annoyed than ever, “No pets in the restaurant!” Her newspaper pointed at Chopper. He shifted to look taller, more human.

“Is that better?” The demon woman asked. The cashier stared in shock and horror.

“Tiff, he’s chill, he’s a cool guy- chihuahua thing!” Zambai attempted to vouch from the table.

“I’m a reindeer!”

“If you’re a deer you need to wait outside!” The old cook yelled from the kitchen.

“Then I’m a MAN!”

Tiff slapped her forehead with her paper, “Fine! Whatever! What are you fuckers ordering?”

“The customer service here sure is crap,” the swordsman laughed. Robin directed the boys to the menu and then joined the three Franky Family members at their usual table.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, Robin!” The square sisters called in unison.

“How’s it goin’?” Zambai greeted.

“We’re making preparations to set sail in the morning, but I’ll just cut to the chase. I heard a rumor that you want us to take him,” she crossed her arms.

“Oh, totally! I thought that was already the plan? Is he… not going with you?” The dark haired man asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“He wasn’t planning on it. Do you mind if we join you to eat? I think we’ve got a heist to organize, and none of us can do it alone.”

All three seated people lit up and scurried to open the table arrangement. She set her book bag down in the corner, pulling out her city guide and opening up its map.

“Rooooobiiin, what should I get?” Her captain called over his shoulder.

“Tell her you want a Number Four, Funky style.”

“I want four Number Ones, Franky style.”

The archeologist sighed and walked back to the front counter.

“What’d you get me the other night?” Zoro asked.

“Same thing. Alright,” she took the reins, the boys unable to order civilly.

“That sounds good, can I get that?” The tall Chopper squinted at the menu.

“I thought you weren’t hungry.”

“B- but it sounds really tasty! What’s a Funky style? It isn’t on the menu.”

“It’s literally everything. I don’t know. A sensory nightmare. Fucking slop food,” Tiff rolled her eyes.

“Uhhhh, maybe I just get chicken bites? Luffy can I try yours though?” The doctor looked with big eyes.

“Yeah! Okay, so that’s-“

Robin held her hand up, keeping him from overriding the conversation. “So that’s two Number Four’s, both funky style. One plain fish sandwich. One side of chicken bites. Boys, who wants fries?”

All three hands shot up.

“One small fry, two big ones.”

Tiff sighed at the first glimmer of hope at a normal enough order. “And drinks?”

Luffy lit up.

“He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he caffeinates this late!” One of the sisters giggled from the table.

“He’s going to be bouncing off the walls tonight regardless,” the historian smiled. Tiff did not appear nearly as impressed.

“The biggest cola you have! You sell that, right?” The pirate boy yelled.

“Duh,” said the waitress.

“Do you guys sell booze here?” The swordsman raised an eyebrow.

“No.”

“The I’ll have the same thing as him.”

“One regular sized ginger soda,” Robin followed, “and- Chopper what do you want?”

“D-do you have cherry?”

“We got cherry,” Tiff nodded.

“A big-“

“Doctor, you’ve already had quite a lot of sugar. Are you sure it would be wise to get a large one?”

“N- no, I guess not,” he deflated, “a normal cherry soda.”

“‘Please,’” the dark haired woman prompted the boy.

“Please. No one else had to say please!”

Robin shot the other two boys looks.

“…Please,” Zoro and Luffy said in unison.

“Okay, so that’s uhhh two full Franky orders, one fish sandwich, one regular ginger, one nugget, another small fry, and a regular cherry. Yeah?” Tiff summarized, calculating the bill.

“That sounds correct. Thank you,” the archeologist nodded, passing over the last of their cash. Curses came from the cook in the back of the kitchen, directed at no one in particular. Drinks were filled and handed out to itching fingers.

Zoro slid into the long booth first, angling himself into the corner near the window. Robin sat next to him at the center of the table, and Chopper positioned himself on the outside end. Luffy pulled up a chair at the head. Zambai and the sisters squished into the other side, much as they had the first night Robin had visited the establishment.

“Alright,” Mozu threw both hands down on the table, threatening to make the sodas slosh, “How we gonna do this thing?”

“It won’t be easy,” Robin chewed her cheek.

“Do we even know where he’s going to be tomorrow?” Zoro crossed his arms.

Zambai frowned, “He said he’s planning on hiding. Sulking, more like it. So probably the warehouse. But that’s not certain, he could be anywhere.”

“We need an exact starting place, if we’re gonna get this thing synchronized. How about we have him meet us at the House?” Kiwi offered.

“How do we lure him to the House, though?” Her sister threw back, popping a fry in her mouth.

Five pairs of eyes turned to Robin.

“Why are we all staring at Robin?” Chopper laughed nervously.

“I can do it. But I won’t actually be joining you at the House. He can’t see me until the end or else he’ll try and disappear again. I’ll pull him out of hiding, though. That’s easy.”

“He’s gonna realize pretty quickly what’s going on when you don’t actually show. He’s not as stupid as he looks,” the swordsman frowned.

“Right,” the other right hand man answered from across the table, “it’s the same reason we can’t just tie him up and carry him from the house to the boat. He’s too strong to take in a fight, and even if we put a carrot on a stick he won’t just run down the beach from the house to the scrap island.”

“Oooh!” Luffy jumped up, “I could wrap my arms around him rrrrreeeeeeaallly tight and then I just carry him to the boat!”

“Are you even listening?! He just said that won’t work!” Zoro laughed.

“I don’t dislike the carrot idea,” the archeologist hummed, “but what’s the carrot in question?”

“ORDER FOR THE PIRATE GUYS!” Tiff yelled from the counter. Luffy sprinted to get the food, almost spilling it all in his journey back. Blossomed hands distributed the meals out, but something wasn’t quite right.

“Tiff, I’m sorry to ask, but we ordered two Number Fours, you gave us three,” Robin peered around the large deer-man.

“Oh my god. HEY POPS! Did you accidentally make an extra Franky meal?! We don’t have the ingredients to waste, are you fucking senile?!”

“I assumed he was just running late, the rude fucking bastard!”

“Ugh. Whatever,” the waitress turned back to the table, “Just take it. On the house.”

“I’ll eat it!” Luffy’s hand shot up.

“Can I try a bite?” Chopper asked.

“Sure! Here! Look how much sauce there is, wow! I gotta ask Sanji if we can put this much sauce on other sandwiches.”

The deer took one bite, but his face immediately scrunched up, “I don’t know if I like the funky style, actually.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Robin pat him on the shoulder as he returned to his chicken nuggets. “Alright,” she continued, pulling a pen out of her bag, “The boat is here, the House is here. How do we get from A to B?”

X’s were drawn over each location.

“Like this,” the captain drew a straight line with his finger, spilling a bit of burger sauce on the map.

“That- that won’t work.”

“Unless we used the cannons?” Zambai offered.

“The- the what?”

“The cannons. But I don’t think they have that sort of range. The furthest they can be is- can I borrow that?” The dark haired man took the pen and drew a semi-circle around the boat’s location.

“You think you can get him to willingly climb into a cannon?” Zoro scoffed.

“No, but I think a couple of tough guys could make him get into a cannon.”

“Ohhhhhh then I can cannon duty!” The green haired man immediately changed his tune.

“If we use the height of the city to our advantage, then the best place to put the cannon is… here,” the woman marked the map at an intersecting point between the city’s walls and the line the other man had drawn.

“Sure, that should work,” Mozu sipped her drink, “but how do we get him from the house into the city? What’s the carrot?”

The eyes returned to Robin.

“It still won’t work, it can’t be me. Especially if I get him to the House. It’s going to have to be something else. Something more… personal. What does he have left that motivates him?”

“He doesn’t have much going for him right now,” Kiwi frowned.

“Yeah, the house is gone, and once you and the boat are gone, that’s really it for him,” her sister volleyed, “He’s getting on that train with a ticket to ride and the shirt on his back.”

“Would he even run across town for his shirt?” The archeologist chewed her cheek.

“… Probably not, no.”

“Wait!” Zambai interjected, “what about his-,” he pointed downward, into his own lap.

Luffy looked under the table, “His treasure?”

“We can’t steal that, it’d be too mean. It’s broken right now. And he's got plenty of replacements,” Robin frowned, too focused to really think through her words.

“He broke his swimsuit? How do you break a swimsuit?”

“He- oh, that’s what you meant. Yes, that’s fine. Actually, that might just work.”

“Sorry, no,” one of the sisters threw her hands on the table, “I wanna know what Robin was talking about just now. What did you mean?”

“You broke it?!” Zoro laughed.

“You can steal it? Like take it off? Is it like, a robot sausage?!” Luffy’s jaw dropped inhumanly far.

Chopper screamed, “WHAT?!”

“I- I don’t want to talk about this,” she turned bright red at her error.

Mozu and Kiwi broke down into loud laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Zambai tried to settle them down, “So, Robin gets him to the house-“

“Franky’s funny, smart, tall, and unique,” the reindeer muttered to himself, realization slowly dawning.

“-she lures him out of hiding. Me and the guys’ll be there. We snatch. We run. He follows. If we head into town it might buy us some time before he realizes where he’s being lead, but we can’t hold him off for long, he’s way strong.”

“Super strong,” the girls trilled.

“So we’re gonna need backup.”

“Me and Chopper can be backup!” The captain volunteered, though he was only half listening, enraptured by his two messy cheeseburgers.

“Fine. Luffy and the chihuahua are waiting in the city for the last of our guys to go down, and then they beat him with raw speed.”

“What did you just sign me up for?! I’m not a chihuahua!” Chopper looked flabbergasted, shell shocked by too many sudden changes all around him.

“Luffy’s not going to wait anywhere. If you’re inviting him to the chase, he’ll be showing up when he feels like it,” Zoro shook his head with a dark grin.

“That’s fine,” Zambai shrugged, comfortable with the chaos. “He can get big bro the rest of the way to the cannons. You and a few left over guys will be there- are you sure you can take him? He’s pretty heavy.”

“Maybe I bring the shit cook with me just to be safe, ugh…”

“Yeah, as backup.”

“Heh, understudy ass curly face.”

“… Fine. You and the cook are on the canons. We send him flyin’. But how do we get him on the boat?”

“Oh, I can handle him once he’s close. Leave that part to me,” the demon grinned.

“Ewwwww,” all six companions turned to her.

“Okay!” Luffy cheered, “So we make him run to the ship with his robo-carrot out! And then Robin grabs him with all her hands and puts him on the boat! Easy!”

“It sounds easy on paper at least,” Mozu shrugged.

"We give the people one final show. An encore. Something to really talk about,” Robin nodded down at the annotated map.

“Wait,” the swordsman interjected once more, “how do we know this… carrot’s gonna work? Why would he do all this for the suit?”

Zambai took a long drink from his beverage, “It’s his only one.”

“What?!” Robin froze, terror across her face.

“Oh, okay,” Zoro shrugged.

“What?!” The woman repeated, turning to look at him. Luffy laughed.

“I mean, it goes in the water every day. That’s like cleaning, right?”

“No, it is not!”

“Eh, close enough. I’m not the one who touches it,” the swordsman laughed and kicked her lightly under the table.

“The packing will be light, do you want us to get his stuff ready tonight?” Kiwi offered, trying to change the subject.

 Robin agreed, "get it prepared while he’s at work, and then I’ll come by in the morning once he’s hiding to transfer it to the ship.”

“Great. Just the basics? Toothbrush and shirts?”

Robin thought through what she’d seen of his routine, “He’s got the whole kit that probably needs to come. Eyeliner, pomade, medicine, testosterone…”

“He ‘roids, I fuckin’ knew it,” Zoro murmured under his breath, taking another bite of his messy burger.

“…And, well Zambai, do you know about his… gun cases?” The archeologist stared with an inscrutable expression.

“The two big ones? Sure.”

“Make sure those are located and moved onto the ship too, he’ll, um, want them.”

“Makes sense. What’s a pirate ship without a bunch of guns?”

“…Yeah.”

“So, guns, shirts, supplies, anything else?”

“Probably his books and the guitar. Maybe his tools if he’s taken them away from the boat, we can check it all over in the morning. The warehouse should get cleared before he finishes the ship. And he-“

A rolled up newspaper came flying at the table, landing on top of the map and between all the sandwiches wrappers.

“Wrap it up, he’s coming this way,” Tiff hissed, pointing out the window. Sure enough, in a matter of moments, the bell on the door rang and one very tired looking cyborg stepped through.

“Heeeeeeeey, Franky,” the waitress greeted.

“Uh, hey Tiff. Hey, Pops.”

Blossomed hands scrambled to conceal the map, and their owner slunk back to hide behind the reindeer’s expanded shoulders. One extra hand grabbed the pen, scrawling out a quick note on a clean napkin.

“The usual?”

“Yeah, but I also got a super big order for the GC guys. Sorry. ‘Burg said to bill the mayor’s office, he’s payin’ for this one,” Franky sighed, noticeably depressed.

“That trick doesn’t work any more!” Tiff scolded.

“Nah, I swear! He signed the paper, it’s legit! Look!”

“…Fine. Give us a minute. Here’s your drink. Ay, Pops! Big ass order and another Franky meal!”

“Another?! I just made three! I knew he’d be showing up, I told you! Fuckin’ asshole won’t let me sleep,” the little, old chef yelled from the back.

“Pops, this is literally the last time you’re ever gonna have to make this for me- wait, who else ordered it?!”

Tiff pointed the man at the table behind him, now cleared and inconspicuous.

“Wh-whoa, bro! Didn’t know we’d run into you here!” Zambai smiled through his grit teeth.

“Heeeeeeeeeey big bro!” His sisters greeted.

“Oh,” Luffy gulped down one of the final bites of his second massive burger, “hey Franky, what’s up? You make a really good sandwich, ya know that?”

“I- I don’t make ‘em. What the hell are you guys all doing here?”

“Eating,” Zoro shrugged.

“We were just about to go, actually. See ya later, bro!” His number two guy shrugged and slid out of the bench, followed by Mozu and Kiwi.

“Later, bro! Have fun at work!” They cheered and ran out the front door.

“Wanna sit?” The captain offered, shifting to steal Zoro’s fries from a distance.

“Uh, I-“ the cyborg hesitated.

“Actually, Luffy, we should really get going, too. C’mon, you can take the food with you. It’s kind of the point. Let’s move,” the swordsman encouraged. The rubber boy whined but started picking up the last of the meal. Arms and mouth full, he flopped to the entrance.

“A’right. Bye, mean burger lady! Bye, angry old guy! Thanks for the food! It was really tasty!”

“Finally! Some respect!” Pops yelled, hard at work on the construction workers’ giant order.

Chopper nodded his farewell as he headed to the front door, suddenly unable to look the cyborg in the eye. He took a little sniffle on the way out and the information his nose received made all his fur stand up in fright.

“Zoro-,” the doctor called back.

“I’ll explain it to you later.”

“How much later?”

“Ten minutes or ten years, your pick,” Zoro laughed.

With the heavy point deer out of the way, there was no one for Robin to hide behind. She tried to grin politely at the tall man, but the look he returned was filled with devastation.

The archeologist waved, “Hello. Nice seeing you. Goodb-.”

“Nope,” Franky grabbed her hand, pulling her off to the side before she could exit with her party.

“Uhhhh, I’ll be outside,” the swordsman clattered last out of the booth and ran after the other two.

“See, I told you I’d see you sooner than you thought,” Robin smirked.

“Seriously?! I had that whole thing this morning, I thought it was a super nice moment! Just to run into you on your way out of fuckin’ Waterburger?! This blows!”

“Don’t seem so disappointed to see me,” she looked a little bruised.

“No, it’s- I mean. I dunno. It kinda took a lot outta me to say goodbye this morning, and it’s a lot to do again- Wait, why are you getting food with the guys?”

“It’s a nice establishment and I was in the mood for something funky.”

“Ha, sure. Seriously. What are you planning?” He looked as earnest as he sounded.

Luffy poked his head back in, yelling, “Robin! I’m outta cola, can I get more?!”

“No free refills!” The tall man, the demonic woman, and the waitress behind the counter all yelled in unison.

“Can we buy more?”

“Captain, we’re out of money.”

“…Fine,” he muttered and went back outside.

“I need to attend to my crew. But I’m glad I got to see you again,” Robin smiled and squeezed his big hand.

“Wait,” Franky tried to stop her once more. He pulled lightly on her hand, bringing her in close for one final kiss under the harsh lighting of the restaurant.

Outside the window, Chopper screamed, Zoro laughed, and Luffy cheered.

“That was nice. Thanks,” the Robin smiled, breaking away sooner than she would have liked.

“Not as nice as this morning was. Sorry, it sucks that this was the last note,” the cyborg kicked at the ground.

“It’s fine. Have a good night. Enjoy your food. Good luck with the rest of work.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Goodbye, Nico Robin.”

She paced two steps away and turned, flashing one last evil smile. A disembodied hand snapped her lover’s little swimsuit. Another hit him on his shoulder, as one might pat a bro.

“Ciao, Flam,” she waved over her shoulder without a second glance.

“W-what the fuck?” Franky stood dumbstruck in the middle of the fast food establishment. He ran to the front door, nearly ripping it off its hinges. “YOU CAN’T END THIS LIKE THAT!” The cyborg yelled after her.

“I just did!” She jeered back with a laugh, still not turning around. The party turned around a corner, down an alley, and disappeared.

He shook- frustrated, angry, and a bit turned on. His attention was brought back to his speedo, the sharp snap against his hip still stinging. A white piece of paper poked over his waistband. He pulled it out, eyes scanning the napkin over and over. Franky wasn’t sure how long he stood in the dining room, leaning against the countertop, rereading the archeologist’s final note.

9 a.m.

Your house

Fix the favorite

Wear the favorite

One last goodbye.

Time passed, he assumed, but he just kept reading the napkin. This was it, this was the trick. The gun was loaded. Unless it wasn’t, and she genuinely just wanted to have one last nice moment. He wasn’t sure. He was never sure. Dammit.

Then again, shit, what a terrible final note to end on if he didn’t take her up on her offer. Ciao? Flam? It left a disgusting taste in his mouth. He washed it down with a drink, but the flavor lingered.

“Franky? Franky! Your food’s ready.” Tiff shook him from his fugue.

“Wh- oh, thanks,” he tried to shake the confusion. “Cool. Yeah. Oh, uh, this is it, for me. But if you guys wanna franchise out to San Faldo, I’m your guy to call. Tiff? Please quit this job. You’re better than this place. Pops? Fuck you, I hope you go out of business without my cash flow. You’re gonna realize just how much you love me once I’m gone. Bye!”

The cyborg picked up the big box of food with one arm. He turned, but as he moved his eyes caught the bulletin board covered in his numerous wanted posters. Tired eyes stared, caught by his own face on repetition. No free refills. Wanted.

“Hey, kid!” The old chef yelled as he scraped down the grill, “Forty four million can buy a hulluva lotta cheeseburgers. This better be the last time I see you, you damn bastard! Now get the fuck out of my restaurant before I kill you and turn your body in for cash and scrap metal! You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here!”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem,” Franky mumbled under his breath. He readjusted his grip on everyone’s dinner and headed out into the dusk, suddenly very unsure about what tomorrow would bring. First thing first, however, he had a ship to finish.

Chapter Text

Day 0

Robin stared absentmindedly at the churn of the water behind the rudder. They couldn’t be far from their return to society, though she kept her back turned to the fountains that had just begun to crest the horizon.

She had quite a lot to think about. Lingering memories floated through her mind of her old home burning, of her newer home burning as well. Ideas swirled- lies and truths and weapons of mass destruction, crimes, justice, war. Want. Need. She chewed on the funny feeling in the bottom of her gut that she had felt when that man she had known for not twenty four hours had taken those bullets for her- taken them with ease, at that. A man who had been taught to fear her for decades had changed his mind. He told her that it was permissible to simply… exist.

The archeologist didn’t want to stare directly. That’d be rude. So she blossomed an eye somewhere shadowy and hidden, and was rude in the quiet of her own little world. He looked just as melancholy, staring out at his own little patch of sea foam on the other side of the ship. The big man leaned over the railing, knees bent, calves bare, backside in that little swimsuit looking- no, she was getting distracted. But, then again, there wasn’t much else to be done to kill time on the mayor’s ship.

Her friends were all napping in their pile. They probably would have welcomed her with open arms to their sleeping arrangement, but the teen’s unique connection was one she didn’t feel entirely comfortable encroaching on. There were no books on her person, and she wasn’t about to get in trouble for snooping through the bookshelves of the man she just attempted to assassinate. But there was an itch in her fingertips that she could not ignore. Her hands needed a task, all of them.

Maybe the request would be rude, she thought. She didn’t know this man, she didn’t know his preferences. But the adrenaline of snapping a few dozen necks always left a lingering thrill in her blood. He seemed like the type of man who was into a freaky thing or two, just based on how he looked. And that little swimsuit made it look almost unbelievably, intimidatingly big. A proper challenge. The idea of taking him made her quiver.

There’d been… something strange, too. A nameless frequency had caught her ear each time they’d been forced to the ground together. A little zip of static discharge had arced every time their skin had accidentally glanced. It was fascinating, she ruminated to herself. The source had to come from somewhere, a frequency like when the radio was turned on, but the volume turned off, except she couldn’t figure out where the radio was hidden. She was… curious, from an entirely empirical perspective.

Alright, maybe not entirely empirical. Maybe she didn’t need to use science and research to justify the pursuit. Maybe, said a voice in the back of her mind, she could just want it.

That was funny. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in a long, long time. The thought wasn’t driven by need, desperation, blackmail, or the whims of others. This desire bloomed from within. A flash of greed overtook her heart.

The devil made up her mind. She could open with a casual conversation, then inject a bit of flirting, and if he was receptive, she’d get him below deck and make his brain leak out his ears. It sounded like an excellent plan.

The worst case scenario? She’d have a good time for a brief few minutes. The best case scenario? She’d have a great one for as long as they were stuck in a town that had already deemed her the enemy.

Robin smiled into the fizzing sea foam and turned to make her way across the deck. Surely a boat this large had a spare utility closet somewhere…

Day 7

The shipwrights of the Galley-La company finished their work just a little before dawn. The morning was overcast, blocking any hope of a beautiful sunrise, though the shining sun that stood in completion did all the heavy lifting to compensate.

“Is it everything you’d hoped for?” Iceburg asked the architect with a jovial slap between the shoulder blades.

“Y-yeah. Yeah I think it is,” Franky choked out, barely able to keep his jaw from trembling. The rest of the men turned away, meandering back toward the city to get a few hours of well-deserved rest. The mayor and his smaller team of celebrity shipwrights didn’t bother to make it that far, curling up in the soft sand against walls of metal scrap.

The cyborg, however, still had work to do. He boarded his creation one last time to give her a final sweep. He wasn’t done saying goodbye. Maybe he was getting sappy and sentimental after all. Just maybe.

First came the gym. Dumbbells received one final alignment, a clean rag wiped over the the big mirror, a spare screw was collected from the middle of the floor. He sighed. The views out the windows were spectacular, the space airy and well ventilated. Bracing breezes invigorated the muscles. Though he suspected that the young swordsman already enhanced through other means. No way that kid wasn’t already ‘roiding.

“Later, bro,” he bade, giving one last nod of approval before lowering down the hatch and descending the long ladder to the deck.

Next he found himself in the men’s quarters. Pillows were adjusted, lockers were closed, wall decor was adjusted. Extra bunks hung for just in case the crew ever expanded. Normal sized beds, for normal sized boys. It was easier this way.

“Yeah, see ya,” he waved, enjoying the fresh teak smell of the room before it was lost to inevitable teenage boy funk.

Then, Franky checked the girls’ space. He oiled the wardrobe doors to keep them from squeaking, pushed in the vanity chair, and propped up the little stack of books that had fallen. Temptation crossed his mind, and he was never good at ignoring the instinct. The big man took a seat on one of the beds. He had no idea which one of the two she would pick, but he guessed which one the navigator would have preferred, which meant this one was more likely to end up as Robin’s. At worst, it was a fifty-fifty guess.

Occipital sensors stared up at the ceiling, and he didn’t realize he was lowering to lay down until the soft sheets found his back. It was a nice bed; the mattress supported in all the right places and the frame was sturdy as to not creak, even under a heavy weight. A bed he would have like to- nope, nope, nope, the cyborg shook the thoughts from his mind. It wasn’t happening, so there was no reason to get worked up over the result. The mechanical body rolled back up with a groan. He stood, fixing the sheets back into their original flatness. The pillow was fluffed and turned over, definitely not hiding the two wet puddles that had not already soaked into the fabric. A little freak voice in the back of his mind hoped she’d catch the faintest smell of pomade when she went to bed that night and dared to hope she’d think of him with a smile. Maybe think of him, too, with the touch of a secret, extra hand.

“G-goodbye,” he whispered, trying to smile but the result was flat and tight.

Franky lumbered to the hatch in the middle of the deck and slid down the ladder into the hull’s docking system. Designing it had been one of his truest pieces of joy though the entire project. It felt unique, like something only his hands could have created. The shipwright felt terrified that the Galley-La guys had looked too closely, taking his ideas and selling them back to the World Government for profit. If he saw new military ships with his tech in six months, there’d be hell to pay. Bastardized simulacra sold for fear and intimidation. It just wasn’t his style.

He whispered a goodbye to each of the doors that led to all his smaller projects. Little surprises waited for the navigator and the sniper. He imagined the looks on their faces as they discovered their gifts, and he imagined the cool things they’d find out there in the world to fill the rest of the empty slots. Maybe it would be just enough to say sorry to the kids. He knew there wasn’t any way to really make amends completely. The scar was going to linger.

The cyborg issued a quick farewell to the weapons factory. He hoped with all his heart that Longnose would find his words in time. Then, he ran a final check through his- no, fuck!- not his workshop. He had to stop doing that. Goodbye to that super nice new drafting table that made him a bit jealous of the next guy. Goodbye to all the petals he’d locked into the walls next to the soundproof foam. He couldn’t even bring himself to say goodbye to the beautiful, new leather couch, with it’s easy to clean surfaces and the pullout mattress. Big, annoyed hands scooped up the last of his papers and he scampered out the door before regret and distraction consumed him.

He climbed back up the ladder, into the lounge. A salutation was issued to the forty thousand gallons of sea that he’d captured and tamed and stocked with tropical fish. A wave was thrown to the wine cellar that he’d never get to break into with- distraction. A night with Wine Franky wasn’t fun, he was helping Robin dodge a bullet. Wine Franky was a pretentious asshole who was too quick to tears. Quick-er, at least.

The cyborg ascended to the next floor, lapping quickly though the galley. Utensils were placed in each of their spots, with plenty of room for the cook to rearrange as he saw fit. The dining table housed eight chairs- eight because it was an even number for a dining table to have, of course. Not for any other reason. Someone else could be crew mate number eight. That last chair could sit unoccupied until it was filled by the right person at the right time.

He wandered outside, into the gardens. Franky put the spades, the rakes, and the watering cans in their little storage box and let his hand run over the fresh soil one last time. She’d grow so many things, he wished he got a chance to see. Whatever. It didn’t matter. She’d nurture other things on her plot of the land out at sea. He thumbed over the seeds he’d bought but not planted in her stead. Purple delphiniums and blue starflowers. Maybe she’d pick up something new and interesting on the next island, or something dangerous in the New World.

Franky disappeared through the nearby door, into her domain. He barely wanted to do his last checks through this room. The library looked much as it had the day before, though a towel had been left on the floor against the central table. Franky picked it up with a frown, before remembering why the tile needed to be mopped in the first place. The little freak voice in his brain begged him to savor it. With no one in the vicinity to witness, he held the little washcloth up to his face, trying to breathe in the last of his lover’s essence while it still lingered. Ghosts in the early morning light weren’t enough. It wasn’t ever going to be enough. Never enough.

The towel was tucked into the side of his swimsuit as the cyborg climbed the ladder for the final check of the the bath. Fine. Whatever. They didn’t matter. These rooms had utility that he couldn’t allow his mind linger on. The bath was big for everyone else’s sake, no one in particular. Fuck this shit.

He lowered back down the ladders, back to the deck. The soft grass poked between his toes. The grain of the finished handrails was smooth under his mechanical hands, or at least it felt smooth enough. The cyborg paced up to the helm. He took the wheel between his fingers, thumbing over the rocket ignition. Dock controls clicked into place. This was his pride, his joy, his dream.

“So long,” Franky muttered, taking a seat on the bench behind the wheel. He’d made it wide enough for two people to sit, or maybe just one big guy. Luffy could find a guy big enough to fill the seat. It sure wasn’t him.

The sun began to rise, diffused by the clouds. The dawn was so different and yet so similar to how it had risen the day before, and how it would rise the next day, and presumably every day after that. Morning glow lit the figurehead, making her shine just a little. The architect climbed up to the spot he’d been assured would be the captain’s favorite seat in the house.

“You’re my greatest creation, worth every ounce of the work. I’m always gonna love you. And maybe one day I set out to find you, hear me? I’ll see you again some day. Bye. I'm super proud of you. Have fun with them. You’re gonna see some incredible stuff. Tell me all about it some day, yeah?”

A wet kiss was smacked into the wood at the top of the figurehead, sealing the last of the shipwright’s work. Franky pulled his pencil out of his swimsuit and drew a little star behind the lion’s mane. The craftsman’s signature completed his art. She was ready to fly away.

The walk down the beach was slow. Franky took his time, dragging his feel through the sand. He didn’t want to go home, but there weren’t many other options. Medicine needed to be taken, caffeine needed to be consumed, his body needed refreshment after working through the night. He’d need to be in and out quickly if he was planning on hiding the rest of the morning. There were plenty of hours to distract himself, and once that boat left he was free to move on with his life.

Craftsman’s fingers already started to itch again, looking for the next thing to put together. No, he was done building. Then they’d itch for the next thing to take apart. He just needed something, anything at this point.

Well, he thought to himself, there was his dick to fix. He could do that first, that would be something to tinker with. And then he could… he could clean the couch! Yeah, that would be second. And after that he could- Franky looked down at his hands, realizing he’d left one of his tool boxes in the workshop. Fuck it. He didn’t have the heart to go back. Hopefully the next guy liked his shit. There were other tools at the warehouse.

The man approached his House with caution. The note had said she’d meet him at nine, but knowing that devil she’d show up early, just to throw him off. The main room and the halls were all quiet as he wandered through. It made him a little sick, thinking about how this was possibly the penultimate time he’d be here, at least until things cooled off and he came back from San Faldo. His hands wanted to get to work immediately, to rebuild the walls, fix the bannisters, reinstall the lights, patch up the tile floors. But there just wasn’t the time. His dick had to come first.

The cyborg froze halfway down the hall to his bedroom. The door was wide open and someone rustled around on the other side. This was it. Right? The heist? A flutter rattled his fridge, like loose bees. He couldn’t tell if the nerves were welcomed or not. Yes. Well, no. But then again…

“What’re ya doin’?” Franky called, not loud enough to wake the rest of his boys up but loudly enough to make whoever was in his room stop what they were doing. Fuck, he hoped Robin was here for him, but also dreaded her arrival. The time needed to pass quicker for no other reason than to clear his confused mind.

“Shit— he’s back early- grab the-.”

“This?”

“Yeah that!”

Two warbling voices bounced off each other. The steel man’s shoulders released their tension. She wasn’t here yet. Good. Or bad. Maybe. Something.

“Heeeeeeeeeey, big bro,” Kiwi slid out the door, closing it partially behind her, “Soooo, how was work?”

“I- uh- we’re done. Can I- What the fuck are you two doing in my room?” He asked, taking a step closer to the door.

“Wh- w- w- well we-.”

“We thought you’d be suuuuuuuuuuper tired after finishing the boat, but you’re train’s not for a while!” Mozu popped up at her sister’s side, “So we wanted to help take something off your plate! We put all your shirts in your duffel bag. Yeah, you’re welcome.”

Kiwi looked at her, trying to catch up to the lie. She nodded furiously, first to her sister and then to her big brother. It wasn’t a full lie. They were helping him pack. Just… not for San Faldo.

“‘Scuse me,” the tired man tried to push past.

“Hm?” Both girls said in unison, using their bodies to block the path.

“C’mon, just lemme through. I gotta get my shit.”

“We can get it for you!”

“For f- I’m not in the mood for games right now,” a big hand scrubbed over eyes exhausted from tears and a week of all-nighters. The sisters sensed his seriousness and took two relenting steps out of the threshold.

Franky entered his room and headed straight for the fridge, bringing himself back up to a comfortable homeostasis of sugar in his veins. He zoned out in the direction of the empty closet as he put the drinks away, lost in thought. The energy helped him to feel more awake, but it didn’t aid the weight in his chest. He felt a little pathetic, subconsciously running his hand over the sheets that Robin had made before leaving the other morning. The pillow probably smelled like honeysuckles. One wilted pink petal had ended up on his bedside table. The cyborg stared at it with big, wet eyes.

“B-big bro? Are you doing okay?” Mozu closed in, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a hand on his forearm.

“You’re not lookin’ so super,” Kiwi offered, standing at his other shoulder and squeezing on his knuckles.

“I- no. ‘Course I’m not. I thought it was fine, but now that it’s all done I- I don’t know what to do. My one big dream’s finished. The thing I’ve been chewing on for- shit, twenty years? ’S time to let her go, y’know? But… I dunno. Didn’t realize finishing things would make me feel like this. Thought I’d be happier, that’s all.”

“Bro,” one sister started.

“You’ve been super happy this week,” the other continued.

“Yeah, lotta people keep tellin’ me that. But it doesn’t mean I’m getting back into the game. It always ends up hurtin’ in the end. Everything always fuckin’ hurts so much,” he mumbled, walking away from their comforting hands. He frowned, inspecting the closet for his toiletries without success.

“They’re already in the bag,” a girl pointed at the duffel at the foot of the bed.

“Thanks.”

Shirts were tossed haphazardly over the bed in an effort to isolate his materials. Pills were popped, washed down with soda. 

Mozu didn’t relent her interogation. “You have been really happy this week, haven’t you?”

“What the fuck’s it matter if I was? Higher the high, the harder the crash. I’m not goin’,” he shrugged, “and I’m not building any more. Just drop it, ‘kay?”

“We… yeah- sure, building stuff seems like it’s got you really happy, but-“

“-but we don’t think that this’s the only thing that got you feeling that way, is it? This isn’t just about the boat,” Kiwi finished the phrase.

“No, it’s all about the boat. I dreamt of a boat like that my whole life. And I had it in my hands for less than a fucking week. And now she’s… she’s gonna sail around the world and I’m so fucking proud of her, but shit I wish I could be there to see it with her. Keep her safe.”

“Big bro, these metaphors are getting out of hand.”

“I’m sick of the metaphors! It’s not a metaphor, it’s how I feel about the damn ship!” He snapped, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“…Yeah. And we think that you also feel the same way about someone else, too,” One sister pointed.

“If you want it so bad, if this is your dream, then just do it! Just go, dude!” The other agreed, taking a step so that their big brother was pushed towards the door once again.

“I can’t! How the fuck am I supposed to live with myself if I leave and shit happens here? You two could relapse, or the the boys could-“

Mozu stopped him in his tracks. “There’s a million things that could happen, dude! I could get a job at Waterburger, Kiwi could get a sugar mommy, the mayor’s emotional support hamster could eat a devil fruit. We could become deejays, or movie stars, or bar tenders, or we start helping out other girls that fell through the system like we did! But there’s no way to know what the future’s gonna hold, so we gotta chase what we know we love while we still can! You found that, the whole fuckin’ enchilada, bro. You built your home, you helped make everyone better, you found someone who loves you for you. That’s so rare, and it sucks to see you throw that away just to punish yourself more!”

Kiwi stepped up, “you were never good at knowing when to quit, bro. We’d always win a big bet and then lose it all the next round. You hit the fuckin’ jackpot, man. It’s not getting better than this. So pull your cash now, while you still can. Don’t blow it.”

“I can’t be that fucking greedy!” Franky yelled, temporarily forgetting about his sleeping bros down the hall.

“It’s not greedy, it’s just a great opportunity!” The first sister motioned, “all you fucking do is shit for other people! You’re always helping everyone out, fixing our shit for us! All your money goes to making sure we’re fed, even if the food’s quick and dirty. You’ve spent millions on keeping us full! You built a home for every displaced mother fucker in this town, you give work to every single person who get’s rejected from the Company. You don’t turn anyone away, no matter what they need or how big of a freak they are. You make them implants and prosthetics and you cleaned us up, bro!”

“Exactly! And who the fuck is supposed to do that if I’m gone?!”

“Us! We learned from you! You’re not our dad, you’re our big bro. So let us step up in this town, keep doing that shit in your name. And you go help some new guys out. You’re really gonna let those six kids hit the Red Line on their own? Then that boat’s as good as gone in two weeks.”

“I- they don’t need me!” Long-exhausted tears threatened to return.

“What, you think that Robin can handle all that on her own?” Kiwi asked with skepticism.

“Th- this isn’t about her! And she can handle a lot.”

“We know she can! But those dudes, they’re a lot like us. Like how we used to be. Nami’s too slick and her alcohol tolerance is way too high for eighteen, she’s exactly how we were when you found us. Same with the sword guy, there’s a reason Zambai took a liking to him. That cook’s a sex pest with a nicotine addiction, he definitely needs someone to teach him how to like, be a normal type of perv. But he always makes sure no one goes hungry, he just has the skills to provide something better than fast food.”

“Yeah!” Mozu nodded in agreement, “And their doctor thing is cute, but I think he just got the sex talk yesterday, so clearly he’s still got a lot to learn!”

The sisters weren’t done, taking another step forward, forcing their bro into the doorframe.

“And that sniper, we saw how you talked to him when we took him hostage. You already offered him a spot in the Family. Because you know who he reminds us of? You, dude. Ready to risk it all even if it’s fucking stupid, too fucking proud to give up even when the odds are terrible. He’s scared out of his fucking mind, and he’s doing it anyways. You’re gonna let him go to the New World like that? And then there’s Ro-.”

“I don’t want to talk about her!” The cyborg interjected, cutting his sister off.

“Too fucking bad! You haven’t shut up about her all week, why the hell start now?!”

“Because I hurt her! I hurt her and I hurt the kid. They don’t want to live with me!”

“Did they say that? Have you like, talked to them?” Mozu took another step, making him stumble back into the hallway.

“Yeah! Of course I did! I apologized to both of them! And we had good talks afterward, too! I had a super fuckin’ great morning with her yesterday- the perfect morning.”

“Then the only person hanging onto that guilt is you, dude! They’ve moved on, they’re smart, nice people. They forgave you!” Kiwi met her sister’s side.

“There’s no way to know that!” He doubled down, “I’m not nice, I’m not smart. I don’t belong with them.”

“Says fucking who? You’re like, the smartest guy we know, the nicest guy we know! You’ve got so much love still in your heart, bro, and you get the chance to pour it into something new, so fucking take it!”

“There’s gonna be a moment, dude,” the one in pink shook her head, “That last possible minute, like in the movies. You’re gonna get one final chance to change things. You’re gonna have to be ready when that time comes. You’re gonna need to run to her. Because you might feel guilty now, but that guilt’s gonna totally crush you if you’re not on that boat. Understand?”

“I- I don’t know if I can,” his face fell, “I don't wanna say goodbye to you guys.”

“You always skipped leg day. Just make sure you stretch those fuckin’ hamies before you go,” Kiwi poked at the squishy part on the outside of his thigh, smiling with a thinly disguised giggle.

“Hey,” Mozu laughed too, “We heard a rumor you might have broken something important, so maybe go fix that first. Stop fixing shit for other people. Go fix something for yourself.”

They both popped up on the tips of their toes and kissed his cheeks at the same time. Light tears that had been threatening the whole conversation began to well, immediately washing away the contact.

“We’re gonna miss you, big bro. You turned our lives around before it was too late. Now let us do that for someone else,” the older sister’s lip trembled, trying her best to not mirror his emotions.

“I’m not goin’ far. San Faldo’s only a day’s train ride away, you better come visit me,” he stared at the floor, unable to bring himself to look at either of them.

“Yeah, sure,” the younger one rolled her eyes sarcastically, but the puff in her lower lids was obvious. “If we find you in San Faldo, we’ll be sure to say hi. But you never had good luck with that bitch ass train.”

“Maybe today’s a first?” He offered weakly.

“Nah,” they both sang at the same time.

Franky’s shoulders shook and he wrapped an arm around each of his sisters, holding them both close to his chest in one last bear hug.

“Let us like, build a new home while you’re gone. And when you make it back, you can find us again and see our creation, yeah?” Mozu laughed into his shoulder.

“You inspire us to make shit too, bro. Isn’t that like, the point of all this? It’s time to pass the baton. Let us take it from here,” Kiwi tried to smile up at him, but the big hand held her too tight.

“I- I dunno what to say. I’m gonna miss you, too. You’re the coolest little sisters a guy could have. You’re both so fuckin’-“

“-Super,” all three said in unison.

He gave them one final pat on the backs and pulled away. Everyone tried to wipe tears away quickly, but there was no point denying their presence.

“‘Kay. I’m uh, I’m gonna go, I got some shit to fix before it’s too late. And I got a lot to think through. But mostly, I need a shower and the plumbing’s still fucked here, yeah?”

“Yeah, the plumbing’s fucked,” one girl giggled, not talking about the House.

“I’ll be back at noon to get my bag for the train. I’m not sayin’ goodbye now, ‘cos I’m gonna see you then,” the cyborg slowly started to make his way down the hall.

“See you later, you old fuckin’ sap!” Mozu waved.

“Arrivederci, you idiot!” Kiwi shouted through the house.

“Ay, why you guys yellin’?” Zambai poked his bedhead out of his door, eyes half closed in a drowsy fog.

“We’re not saying goodbye to big bro,” one sister winked.

“Oh. Uh, ciao, mother fucker,” the number two guy waved out the door. His open palm gesture then shifted into just one finger.

“Heh,” Franky laughed, “yeah. Later, you fishnet wearin’ slut.”

“Stretch those hamies, you pervy exhibitionist! Can’t have you crampin’ up!” His best friend yelled back.

“Nah, no way, bro. She’s not gettin’ me while I’m vulnerable. Won’t catch this dude with his pants down!”

“Stop talking and get the fuck outta here, bro!” One girl waved with a laugh.

“Go fix your di- shit. Whatever it is,” the other sister mirrored.

The cyborg turned his back, pacing the last few feet down the hall.

“See you in a few hours, sweetheart!” Zambai laughed and then went back to bed.

Two big fists snapped above the man’s blue head. He gave one last look around the old ruins of his house and left to properly start the longest day of his life. The morning overcast was already starting to burn off, revealing the bright sunshine.

He made it to the warehouse by six thirty. By seven thirty he was refreshed, well-showered, soaped down, skin rubbed raw. A full day of construction grime swirled down the drain. His swimsuit was sudsed up and deeply scrubbed. Faced was washed, eyes were lined, hair was towel dried with a new layer of beeswax to keep it extra stiff.

It didn’t take long to re-solder the necessary bits in his bits. All it really took was a quick incision, a check of the sensors, and a minor reconnection. Not that he’d be needing his dick much any more, but the task gave him something to fidget with. The back of his engineer’s mind was already whirring with new, freaky little ideas for prototype solo adventures. Maybe this could be his new dream. Maybe he got into the weird toy game. There was probably a market for it. Good, honest work, making sex toys for freaks like him.

Something tickled between his ribs, making the cyborg cough a bit. Franky leaned back in his drafting chair in the old warehouse’s office, reclining just a bit and popping open the right side of his chest. The tube that connected his balls to his backup lubricant supply got a quick replacement, hopefully taking care of everything he’d managed to break- she’d managed to break. The tickle still remained.

Franky grabbed a hand mirror, angling it to better see inside himself. He stretched to try and pull at the muscle and wiring. There, trapped between cogs, deep in his system. Shit. Of course. One pink petal wedged between a gear and a bone, angled in a way so that it didn’t immediately mash to a pulp. One flower left over from when he’d destroyed two of her hands. It dragged over his insides, whispering to his guts. She was still inside him, refusing to decompose any time soon amidst all the iron. Her atoms and her cells were forever trapped in his chest.

If he was a big whale fall, then she wasn’t the predators that ripped at fat and tissue. She was those bone worms that sucked at his marrow, in far too deep for his liking. He couldn’t pull the petal out without stopping a few vital processes. Maybe if he had some help, another set of hands or two, perhaps. But he didn’t, so he sighed and put the plate back on his chest, resigned to live with the tickle until she dried into dust. It’s what he deserved.

Sad, blank occipital sensors stared around his office. He still had an hour until he was free. Well, maybe not free free, but relieved from the burden of choice. All he had to do was wait down the clock. It was already eight o’clock, just sixty minutes to go, but that just made him feel worse. The napkin and the vivre card sat on his drafting desk, papers tempting him in two directions- where she was presently and where she was planning to be. He couldn’t give in, not this time. He needed to be strong. Forge that iron will, ignore the voice in the back of his mind.

Robin would probably be upset for a bit, he imagined, sitting around his house at nine, waiting all alone on his bed for one last goodbye. Maybe even waiting naked. No! Franky shook the vision away. Can’t think about her like that. But then again, she asked him to bring the Favorite, which meant she only had one way she wanted to say goodbye. So she probably would be naked. No, stay focused, dude!

Plus, this was probably the trap, the one she’d been promising she’d spring for days. But shit, the offer sounded nice. He stared at his shitty green couch, with its rips and the gross ass stain he’d been ignoring all week. Too busy, too distracted to clean up the mess they’d made.

The mechanical man frowned, trying to decide how to start the process. Two out of the three cushions needed full replacements. New foam, new springs, new fabric. But if two thirds needed fixing, then he might as well just do all three. And if the color didn’t match the original, he should just re-skin the whole damn thing. Okay, so new skin, new springs, new foam. Which meant new stitches.

Buuuuuuut the wood was pretty old. It had been Tom’s couch after all. The couch he’d crashed on through puberty. And second puberty. And third. The salty ocean air couldn’t be good for the wooden bones, and the four years when he’d been gone had probably invited plenty of parasites- termites or moths or mice that chewed at the structural stability. And that was all before he threw five hundred pounds of cannons on it, or had her bouncing on his lap while they- no, stop it. No time to linger, don’t get distracted.

Okay. So that was settled. He’d replace as much of the wood frame as he could, then the rusty springs, then the disintegrating foam, and then reupholster the fabric. Easy. He had all those skills. Hand sewing upholstery wasn’t his favorite, but he could use the practice. All he needed to do was replace… every single element of the couch. Then it’d be fixed. He didn’t even need to commit to green again, if he wanted. If the whole thing had to get new fabric anyway, he could pick whatever color he wanted.

Wait.

It reminded him of those stories that passed through the old shipwright’s circles. A captain and a king who sailed a grand pilgrimage once every year, replacing piece by piece of his ship with new planks and new sails. Except it was a shitty green couch with a gross fucking stain that could never be washed off.

He could do it, no question. But then, why replace it bit by bit? Why not just toss it and build a new couch, if it all had to be stripped away anyways? He couldn’t throw it away because no one would want it. It’d just end up at the scrap yard, like all the other trash, which made it his job to break it down and recycle it anyway. It wasn’t even his couch, it was Tom’s.

Yeah, the man had been dead for eight years, but it was still his furniture, his train, his ships, his city, his family, his warehouse, his sandwich, his books. Huh, Franky hadn’t remembered clearing out all his own reorganized books from the office. Maybe Zambai had packed them up for him. Whatever. The only books that remained on the shelves were the dead fishman’s. The cyborg was just holding on to shit for a man that was never coming back, house sitting an abandoned home. Definitionally closer to squatting than anything else, in a way.

Shit, now he needed a distraction, anything else but thoughts of dead family and lost lovers. He could… he could… he could run down to the hardware shops, get the wood for the couch? But the idea of leaving the warehouse made him nervous. There was still about an hour before before he was wanted at the House, and he couldn’t trust his feet to not run on autopilot. If he lowered his guard, even for a moment, the machine could take over, follow his will on a subconscious level, and pull him out of hiding. He had to stay locked inside.

If leaving was off the table, then he could… he could test the fixes he’d made! Yeah. Yeah! Nothing like a bit of alone time to distract him. The cyborg didn’t need any new materials, just his fist. He clipped his dick back into place and closed his eyes. All he had to do was imagine, let his mind carry him away. Think of… think of…

…

…

Hands?

No!
…

…

Uh…

…

Think of… think of… oh, yeah. Boobs.

Boobs were super sexy.

Boobs in a little black bikini with strings he could pull with his teeth in the shower and-

NO!

What about… boobs not in a covering? Boobs that were free. With deep tan skin and dark perky nipples that he rolled under his tongue. Yeah, yeah like that. The blood flow coupling worked between his dick and the rest of his body. That was a good sign. Circuits fired like they were supposed to, nice. Sponge tissue did its job. Super. Yeah, he was good at fixing stuff. Everything was working just as it had been before.

Mechanical palms shifted over the working hardware under his briefs. Back to boobs. Thinking about them… in his hands. Yeah. In his face? YEAH. That was a start. One boob? Well, they usually came in a set. Two boobs. Four boobs?

He never got to do the boob wall thing.

NO! STOP IT!

Don’t think about her. Just the vague concept of boobs. He’d seen plenty of boobs in his life. Plenty of types. Little ones and massive ones and ones that bounced on his couch as she opened him up and reached into his chest and pulled out a cola and sprayed it in his face. Boobs with streams of the drink running down her torso that he’d licked as he-

DUDE, STOP THINKING ABOUT HER.

This wasn’t working. He was rock hard, sure, but there was no way to keep his mind on the tracks. Franky opened his eyes back up, staring blankly at the wall on the other side of his office. The same wall where a monster flower had built her home, gnawed at his shoulders, and sucked him dry while he hung from a hook.

Now that got the blood flowing.

NO! NO NO NO! Stop thinking about it!

There had to be something. He had… he had a magazine stashed somewhere in the room. It was a few years old, but it would do the job. The big perv spun in his desk chair, trying to remember where he’d put it. Something, anything- hentai, porn, whatever- fuck he’d settle for an erotic romance novel at this point. Just something else. Anything but dark hair and short fringe and leather cowboy hats and sexy shorts and soft hands and full lips and soft hands and tan boobs and soft hands and sweet nectar and soft hands and the monster and soft hands and-

SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK.

Franky stood, trying to think about where he’d hidden his mags. Beady eyes scanned the room intently. And then he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, one pink petal fell from the rafters.

“Oh,” he whispered, watching it disappear into the corner of the room. A cocktail of joy and relief washed down his throat, a mixed drink he hadn’t realized he was thirsty for.

“You’re early,” the cyborg laughed, “what happened to the plan? Nine at my place? You couldn’t wait, could you? I get it. There’s a lot to miss here. You needed one last show, huh? Couldn’t even wait for me to meet you and give you one last fuck for the road.”

He took a seat on the arm of his couch, avoiding the stain that had practically fermented in the week of ignorance. His hand found his swimsuit again and he pulled himself out over the waistband.

“Fixed m’self up nice, just for the encore. You’re pretty damn lucky, y’know that? ‘Specially after you broke it like you did.”

The man’s mind conjured the memory of her hanging from the ceiling, destroying herself with the Favorite. That image was going to live forever in this world, the world his deepest, perverted recesses, resurrected only when he touched himself. He let himself have this. If she was going to insist on watching, then he’d let himself think of her. It was only fair. She wasn’t gone just yet, no reason to torture himself prematurely.

“So didja just assume I wasn’t gonna show and you came here early? Or are you really thinking you’re gonna watch me get off, leave, meet me at my house in a few minutes, and do me all over again? I wouldn’t mind, I bet this drives you wild, ya freak.”

Franky couldn’t see her eyes, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching. He could feel them on him. The pressure of her gaze always made him squirm. His fist picked up an ounce of speed.

“Nothing? No quippy comeback? You’re picking your last-,” he eyed the clock, “-forty five minutes to get shy? C’mon. Can I at least see one of the eyes? You don’t gotta hide those.”

The room was silent, but another pink petal fluttered in his periphery.

“Heh, I bet you think this is super funny. You spent the week drivin’ me super crazy, just to play with me one last time. Well y’know what? Jokes on you, because no one plays with me but myself.”

His second hand joined the first, gently rolling his balls under his big fingers.

“But, uh, if you wanted to offer a hand, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Nothing moved. Nothing changed.