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heroescutiesTitle: A Cherished History
Fandom: One Piece
Genre: Romance/General
Rating: G
Pairing: Franky/Robin
Summary: Robin wondered if all shipwrights were like this; so focused on achieving the perfect build that they wouldn’t notice if someone entered the room and had been watching them all along.
The mountain of crumpled papers and blueprints were growing by the minute, Robin noted with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. It was a continuous stream of motion: the scratching of a pencil on the page, a few mutters and grumbles to himself, and after not too long, a punctuated sigh or growl in frustration as the paper was hastily crumpled or shredded and added to the growing pile in front of him. Robin wondered if all shipwrights were like this; so focused on achieving the perfect build that they wouldn’t notice if someone entered the room and had been watching them all along. Her eyes glanced casually to the tuff of teal hair visible above the mountain of papers. He’d been working on it for at least an hour and she was quite interested in seeing how long it would take him to perfect it or give up.
It wasn’t much longer before her wish was granted and he collapsed in resignation; papers flying everywhere as he flopped forward directly onto the pile of discarded scraps.
“I give up,” He muttered to himself.
“So easily? I’m surprised.”
Franky bolted upright at Robin’s voice, his eyes glancing about wildly at the sound.
“Wha-who-when…when did you get here?”
She shrugged, “What’s the blueprint for?”
He tensed and glanced away, a barely audible mutter escaping his lips, “A nose.”
Robin blinked, obviously unfazed by the odd answer. “For you, I suppose?”
Franky nodded, clearing his throat nervously, “I…I think it got messed up during the battle. Don’t you think it looks…un-super?”
Robin walked around to where he sat, seating herself on the table edge and crossing her legs. Tilting her head to one side, she stared. Franky winced, waiting to hear just how stupid it looked. Much to his surprise, Robin reached out and cupped his chin in her hand as she leaned closer to observe.
“It looks the same to me. You’ve made it from a very strong metal from South Blue. Wootz steel, I believe it’s called. Manufactured circa thirty-five years ago, it’s one of the most durable metals from that period.”
He smiled, somehow finding the archeological evaluation of his nose comforting.
“How’d you know all that?”
Robin leaned closer, her delicate fingers brushing over the bridge of his nose.
“You can see small shimmers of tungsten in it. Since the resources for tungsten are mostly depleted in this day and age, it had to be manufactured over twenty years ago. Historically, it’s often used for weaponry due to its sharp edges.”
“And you can tell all that just from looking at it?”
“That’s what an archeologist does.”
Franky smiled, “That’s amazing. No, super amazing.”
“So is being able to build ships. Or well…noses, for that matter.”
He chuckled at that, his large hands coming up from the table top to rub at his nose self-consciously. The room fell silent for a moment, not a sound but the gentle creaks of the ship as it moved through the water. Finally, Robin spoke up again.
“Don’t change it.”
“Huh?” Franky snapped his head up at the sudden statement.
“The blueprints,” She indicated with a gesture, “You were feeling self-conscious about your nose, weren’t you?”
The shipwright quickly turned away, shuffling his papers awkwardly. “It’s…complicated.”
“Trying to impress an intelligent woman tends to be complicated.”
His eyes widened and he glanced back up to her. “What do you- I mean, why would you-“
Robin smiled, “Part of being an archeologist is playing a detective. And you’ve left some pretty obvious clues.”
“Have I?” Franky muttered back gruffly, obviously trying to will down a rising blush in his cheeks.
“For a man who is as bold and brazen as you are, you’re very compassionate. It’s rather... cute.”
Before he could retort that “cute” wasn’t a manly, super word, she leaned forward and chastely kissed the tip of his nose. Without a single word, she uncrossed her legs, stood up from the table and sauntered over to the door. Once there, she paused a moment. Glancing over her shoulder, she remarked.
“If something has a cherished history, it’s much harder to discard it.”
And as her slim form disappeared out the doorway and around the corner, Franky couldn’t agree more. Touching a finger to the place where she’d kissed him, he muttered, “Well…that was super.”
Scooping up all the blueprints for smaller, more “normal-shaped” noses, he deposited them in a nearby trash bin and decided to go up on deck with the others. There was certainly no way in hell he’d change his nose now.
Fandom: One Piece
Genre: Romance/General
Rating: G
Pairing: Franky/Robin
Summary: Robin wondered if all shipwrights were like this; so focused on achieving the perfect build that they wouldn’t notice if someone entered the room and had been watching them all along.
The mountain of crumpled papers and blueprints were growing by the minute, Robin noted with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. It was a continuous stream of motion: the scratching of a pencil on the page, a few mutters and grumbles to himself, and after not too long, a punctuated sigh or growl in frustration as the paper was hastily crumpled or shredded and added to the growing pile in front of him. Robin wondered if all shipwrights were like this; so focused on achieving the perfect build that they wouldn’t notice if someone entered the room and had been watching them all along. Her eyes glanced casually to the tuff of teal hair visible above the mountain of papers. He’d been working on it for at least an hour and she was quite interested in seeing how long it would take him to perfect it or give up.
It wasn’t much longer before her wish was granted and he collapsed in resignation; papers flying everywhere as he flopped forward directly onto the pile of discarded scraps.
“I give up,” He muttered to himself.
“So easily? I’m surprised.”
Franky bolted upright at Robin’s voice, his eyes glancing about wildly at the sound.
“Wha-who-when…when did you get here?”
She shrugged, “What’s the blueprint for?”
He tensed and glanced away, a barely audible mutter escaping his lips, “A nose.”
Robin blinked, obviously unfazed by the odd answer. “For you, I suppose?”
Franky nodded, clearing his throat nervously, “I…I think it got messed up during the battle. Don’t you think it looks…un-super?”
Robin walked around to where he sat, seating herself on the table edge and crossing her legs. Tilting her head to one side, she stared. Franky winced, waiting to hear just how stupid it looked. Much to his surprise, Robin reached out and cupped his chin in her hand as she leaned closer to observe.
“It looks the same to me. You’ve made it from a very strong metal from South Blue. Wootz steel, I believe it’s called. Manufactured circa thirty-five years ago, it’s one of the most durable metals from that period.”
He smiled, somehow finding the archeological evaluation of his nose comforting.
“How’d you know all that?”
Robin leaned closer, her delicate fingers brushing over the bridge of his nose.
“You can see small shimmers of tungsten in it. Since the resources for tungsten are mostly depleted in this day and age, it had to be manufactured over twenty years ago. Historically, it’s often used for weaponry due to its sharp edges.”
“And you can tell all that just from looking at it?”
“That’s what an archeologist does.”
Franky smiled, “That’s amazing. No, super amazing.”
“So is being able to build ships. Or well…noses, for that matter.”
He chuckled at that, his large hands coming up from the table top to rub at his nose self-consciously. The room fell silent for a moment, not a sound but the gentle creaks of the ship as it moved through the water. Finally, Robin spoke up again.
“Don’t change it.”
“Huh?” Franky snapped his head up at the sudden statement.
“The blueprints,” She indicated with a gesture, “You were feeling self-conscious about your nose, weren’t you?”
The shipwright quickly turned away, shuffling his papers awkwardly. “It’s…complicated.”
“Trying to impress an intelligent woman tends to be complicated.”
His eyes widened and he glanced back up to her. “What do you- I mean, why would you-“
Robin smiled, “Part of being an archeologist is playing a detective. And you’ve left some pretty obvious clues.”
“Have I?” Franky muttered back gruffly, obviously trying to will down a rising blush in his cheeks.
“For a man who is as bold and brazen as you are, you’re very compassionate. It’s rather... cute.”
Before he could retort that “cute” wasn’t a manly, super word, she leaned forward and chastely kissed the tip of his nose. Without a single word, she uncrossed her legs, stood up from the table and sauntered over to the door. Once there, she paused a moment. Glancing over her shoulder, she remarked.
“If something has a cherished history, it’s much harder to discard it.”
And as her slim form disappeared out the doorway and around the corner, Franky couldn’t agree more. Touching a finger to the place where she’d kissed him, he muttered, “Well…that was super.”
Scooping up all the blueprints for smaller, more “normal-shaped” noses, he deposited them in a nearby trash bin and decided to go up on deck with the others. There was certainly no way in hell he’d change his nose now.
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