high_seas | Date night

Entry tags:

marco,
nico robin

Date night

Who: Marco & Robin [Closed]
Where: Isla Empieza
When: June 6th-ish
What: A date! And serious talks. And rooftop dancing.
Warnings: PG-13 :T Probs. SPOILER WARNINGS LIKE WHOA FOR ONE PIECE THOUGH.
Style: Whatever
Status: Closed please!

Marco was like a kettle, just below the point of boiling over, and with a stubborn refusal to whistle loudly enough to even let those who knew him best see all the steam threatening to escape in a flood. Usually between Marco and Ace, Ace was supposed to be the one with a lot of fire and rage. Marco was supposed to be the levelheaded tactician after all. And that was the problem, really. Marco was so caught up in trying to be Marco, he wasn't even just letting himself be himself anymore. And how could he? The birdbrain practically panicked at the idea of letting his brothers know when something was bothering him, and that went times ten when it was something back home he knew they couldn't change. Why weigh them down with events that had no meaning here?

On the other hand, after a conversation with Robin, it became apparent that he wasn't the only one constantly mired in a drudgery of such thoughts. And where Marco at least had had several extra decades in the New World of the Grand Line to give him experience in handling it, having a crew she loved still seemed new to Robin in a lot of ways. And that was something Marco could understand and respect as well. After all, the only reason he was a tenth as stable as all this even, was because of his Pops and the rest of his brothers.

So an escape from 'brats' of his crew, and a date night out with one of the people he knew would understand it most was definitely in order.

He didn't bother telling most of the crew where he was going. It was just for the night, and he'd rather not have to deal with any would-be spies the violent way he would have to if it came down to it. Instead, he snuck off early after making preparations around the ships, left the work to Thatch -- seeing as the man had stuck Marco with his work hundreds of times for dates before, Marco felt absolutely no guilt in doing the reverse this time -- and flitted about Isla Empieza making his preparations. Rooftop dinner, a flatter spot with a record player for dancing, flowers, and coffee and drinks.

And hopefully he didn't look too nervous standing outside the shop as he waited for her. He wore a blue button-up shirt instead of the typical purple blazer jacket, but he could only hope it didn't look nearly like he'd put as much thought into it as he had. One day he would have to tell his Pops about all this, if just because his Pops would have gotten a huge kick out of things like that.

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There were definitely some things there that Robin didn't know about, so the conversation was beginning to get somewhat fractured to her understanding. But it seemed Marco needed a sounding board more than in-depth analysis, so Robin kept up as well as she could.

"Perhaps to his mind, having you tell him everything and letting him set priority is the token he needs in order to know that you trust him, both as a brother and as your captain," Robin said. Then she giggled. "Though I'm sure you can pass on some notifications. I doubt he meant for you to let him know whenever someone uses the bathroom and for how long, for instance."

A wry grin, and Marco stirred his drink in one hand before sipping it. "Maybe." And yet... "Or more likely he'll do what he always does, and let it eat him up with unnecessary guilt under the guise of 'responsibility.'" Marco rubbed the bridge between his eyes. There was a lot he couldn't tell anyone, and a lot more he simply wouldn't. So even outlining it vaguely was difficult. "He already knew Pops was dying, both he and Thatch know." Marco's tone was more solemn. He pretty much never told anyone outside the crew that; no, actually, this was the first time. He suspected Rayleigh knew, but that was because Roger had been dying when they took on the Grand Line.

"That's why... I didn't go hunting..." a slight hesitation and Marco took a heavier drink. It was the main reason anyway. Because if Whitebeard died while Marco wasn't there, he'd never have forgiven himself, but there had been orders he wouldn't tell too.

Marco shook his head, "But Blackbeard showing up after Ace died?" A scowl flickered over his face. "No way can I see any good coming from that. Fuck..." Marco rubbed his face some more. "Ace blamed himself just for being Teach's commander. I don't even want to think how much he'll blame himself if he finds out Blackbeard was there to take Pops' devil fruit. And Thatch. Seeing as the bastard thinks it's somehow his fault for dying." A facepalm. "It makes it very hard to be mad at them myself for it, eh." Dry deadpan kidding. sometimes he was a little annoyed with them, but it was really just a grieving thing. And truthfully, Marco would so much rather have them around to even blame themselves in the first place so that Marco could kick them for thinking that, than to silently think it himself as some sort of grieving thing with them gone.

"But even beyond that," he waved his hand back and forth, "Pops and I didn't share much. We just did things and acted accordingly." That, and both of them were so obsessed with protecting the other that they couldn't really share if something was a problem, but Marco wasn't really consciously aware of that. "I told Ace I don't know what he expects me to share, but he'll just have to trust me if I don't tell him something too... which I think he was okay with." Marco rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "I don't know. I think it's... some sort of moral thing lately. He backed me up on getting vengeance, even though he expected half of the crew to leave him over it, yet the only one who did have a strong enough opinion about it; Lea, Ace acts like he's the only one doing things the right way. I don't get it."

"Ace will never be Whitebeard," Robin slid her hand along Marco's arm. "It's unreasonable to expect him to act the same, and it's unreasonable to expect yourself to have that same rapport." She turned in her chair to face Marco a little more directly, taking both of his hands in her own. "It is important not to dwell in what was. The past is done, its lessons learned. Perhaps its time for you to learn how to do things differently, or allow yourself to pursue a different position in the crew."

Marco's cheeks flushed, unable to hide behind his hands now that they were both in Robin's, not that he particularly minded. "Ah, it's not that I want him to be like Pops, eh? I just want him to seek his own happiness." He fidgeted again, practically unable to have such a serious discussion without hiding slightly, but he opted for converting the restless energy into playing footsies, more to keep himself distracted than anything else.

"But even questioning him inside my head is..." a small frown, "Troubling. I've always been really spoiled with Pops. Sometimes a first mate has to represent the crew's best interests to the captain without them knowing it, and sometimes they have to represent the captain. Only I've always done it seamlessly because Pops and I never disagreed."

Marco fidgeted even more and slowly turned a pink color so dark that even Grell would have approved of it. He was way too flustered about not being infallible. He just hoped Robin didn't take it the wrong way. Or find it a weakness and dislike him for it -- another road not to go down right now.

"I don't really know now if I'm doing what's right for the crew or if I'm just being selfish, and even if I am being selfish, is that really such a bad thing and--" he stopped fidgeting all at once, though his hands were still in hers. He glanced away sidelong before leaning in close to whisper into her ear.

"Have you ever been around someone who absolutely drives you crazy with their presence?" Because if it wasn't obvious yet, Marco could not seem to hold steady around Robin if his life depended on it. The knowledge of which only served to make him all the more high-strung, and neurotic about it.

While reticent to play footsies during such a serious and immensely more engaging conversation than their usual fare, Robin didn't mind rubbing her thumbs soothingly over the backs of Marco's hands. His question brings a wry smile to her face. "By certain definitions of the word, I'm sure."

He gave her another wry grin.

"Not like Ace drives me crazy, eh. I'm sitting here with the most brilliant women I've ever met and whining about my baby brother. It's hard not to want to kick myself. Do me a favor, in the future if anyone ever asks what the legendary phoenix and leader of the Whitebeard pirates was like, leave out how easily floored by your charms I am, eh?"

That does, at least, get him thinking, however. 'Leader of the Whitebeard Pirates.' Did part of him still see himself that way? Of course he did. Because as determined to never ever go home as he was, in a way it still was 'home.' The rest of his brothers were there, and no matter how much he meant to watch Thatch and Ace live out their days as happily as possible, there would be a continuation for him. A sequel where he wasn't Marco the first mate of the Spades, but Marco, de facto leader of the Whitebeard pirates without their captain. And he worried that even some of the others saw him like that. Well, they should, shouldn't they? He was both. It was still a matter of transition. Ace the baby brother, versus Ace the Captain.

And then before Marco could even voice any of it he made the mistake of looking into Robin's eyes, and felt himself losing coherency all over again.

He wanted to put on his fake glasses or do something ridiculous to make her laugh. Damn it.

It was like she could see straight through him, and then to the pages of history he'd spent decades trying to unravel. And like a child he just wanted to hide from it.

"It's your eyes," he mumbled before glancing away trying to think again. "They're the same color as the highest parts of the sky over a winter island." And therefore really distracting.

Okay, focus, he could do this.

But first he had to stop running away from his own thoughts and letting himself try to escape from dealing with it by using Robin as an excuse.

This shouldn't be so hard.

"It wasn't just about Roxas leaving either." That was bound to affect Ace. He had reacted like an older brother mad at the younger one for crying, and that seemed typical for Ace. Especially since he'd get mad that he couldn't do anything to fix it. Still... why insist Roxas couldn't be part of the crew? Marco's thoughts just circled around in loops. "Lately it seems like a lot of little things are setting me off, eh?"

Everything. And he hated himself for it.

"Which is unfortunate, yoi. Ace had my back when I wanted to get revenge," revenge that he didn't get to achieve, but whatever, there were bigger going ons and Ace had to deal with Aokiji of all things. "So I should be the one always backing his decisions as well," a slight frown, before Marco caught it and grinned, "However ridiculous they are." Because Ds are bound to be ridiculous.

Maybe it was time he learned to do things differently... Differently like how? Suddenly the weight of all his years on the sea seemed to be pressing down on Marco's shoulders. He turned back to look at Robin seriously, "You think I should consider a different position?" That was... out of the question. He didn't want to be a captain, he wanted to enjoy his time in the world, and he couldn't be anything other than first mate but...

Was he really doing that badly? If he couldn't respect his captain's decisions or accurately represent the crew...

Then what?

Marco could barely imagine being anything else. He only agreed to first mate because Ace is his brother. His eyes flickered to the Spade tattoo on the left arm with the rolled up sleeve. He'd gotten one as an example, to make sure the others knew what it meant, how eternal such a thing was. And in a way, maybe that was why he was mad at Ace. Marco's frown deepened seriously.

"Leaving the crew isn't as easy as simply being on a different ship."

But more than that, that was one incident, and in the broader scale of it all...

Marco sighed softly, "For the first time in a long time I'm not at one hundred percent conviction and I don't know how to get there."

Robin kept her expression carefully neutral when Marco asked if she really thought he should step down as first mate. It isn't her decision to make, nor will she make it for him. He's the only one that can make that call. She'd only wanted to challenge his notion that he has to be in the position he's in. As for conviction...

"It's natural for most people to question their convictions every so often. It's how we keep them burning brightly," she smiled, giving his hands a squeeze. "You aren't weak or disloyal for doing so."

"Mm," Marco gave Robin another appreciative grin at the squeeze and rolled his thumbs over her hands. "Questioning is one thing," he glanced away sideways, "But I think I'm arriving at opposite stances, and I don't know how to reconcile that... or even if I should be. If it's something that I think will hurt Ace..." Marco gulped quietly and gripped Robin's hand a little more firmly for support. "I've never been good at standing in his way."

They had all asked him not to go hunt Blackbeard. Whitebeard even ordered Ace not to go at all. But still, it was part of Ace's freedom, part of Ace's identity. If Marco stopped him, then he wouldn't be free. Was it even safe to shift gears from that now? And more, it would mean undermining the captain, and he was definitely not comfortable with that. Not that he could do it if he stepped down either. He would be even less capable then.

"Then perhaps it's important to learn how to redirect him," Robin said. "Luffy isn't easy to stop or reason with either. Usually, in the end, all we can do is believe that he'll come through- or at the very least die doing the best he could. He's quite vocal about that, actually. It's... difficult to accept at first. But it's the conviction he lives by. We don't always agree with it, but it's who he is. Instead, we plan for it. He protects us and our dreams, we fight for him and his. If any of us weren't willing to do so, we wouldn't follow him. I don't know what to tell you other than that."

Robin let her hands slip out of Marco's, and she turned to the table, the food that had been set out.

"Of course, our situations are different. We are not Whitebeard pirates, after all. We have no legacy to uphold, nor expectations from a world calling us the strongest. The only ones we answer to are ourselves, win or lose. Perhaps that factors into things, perhaps it doesn't. In the end, only you can decide what to do and where your place is, don't you think?"

She picked up a fork and speared a bit of something bite-sized, holding it out for Marco to eat.

Marco blinked, relieved for the largest time all night that he'd turned to Robin over this. It wasn't just her cool-headed logic he needed right then. Like Rayleigh, Robin had more experience in having a reckless D as a captain than him. "Ah, no, you're completely right though. Ace is Ace. We had to have faith in him before, and just hope for the best, why not now, eh?" He blushed furiously in spite of himself. It seemed so simple, so obvious, but he couldn't see it through all his worry, and usual habit of working himself into a tizzy.

Both the blush, and a flustered grin, spread at the sight of the food on the fork held out for him. That was adorable. He was going to melt. Marco happily bobbed his head forward like a bird, and made a happy chirp of delight as he ate the bite off her fork. He quickly hurried to make sure to reciprocate as well, getting a forkful of food for her to eat in return.

"All I can do is what I've done with Ace before. When I wanted him to join the Whitebeards, I couldn't tell him why he would be happier that way, he wouldn't have believed me, I just had to show him, and wait for him to find it on his own terms, eh?" He gave a slow happy nod. "So I'll do that now too. Sooner or later, he'll come to his own decisions, whatever they are." Even if it meant dealing with hundreds of wildfires until then, that was nothing new for Marco. He couldn't, or wouldn't stand in Ace's way. To do so would make him miserable, and it wasn't what he wanted as a first mate. After all, if Marco was wrong, the only way to prove it to Marco was to completely force his hand, so if he didn't at least leave himself open for that, then he would never know if he was wrong until it was too late.

"Ah, but in the meanwhile I don't want to fight with him," the blush was back, somehow. It drove him crazy. Around Grell he pretty much never blushed, even when the woman stole his boxers, but then... around Grell it was all games. Around Robin, he wanted to be more authentic. Maybe that was a problem. "Well... hm..." he whistled a thoughtful note in phoenix to himself, "No more than usual I mean." But maybe he just had to come to terms with whether it was okay to question Ace's decisions as a Captain or not. He didn't want to weaken the crew, and certainly that meant continuing to provide a united front, but it was going to be hard to back Ace when he thought he was being a dumbass who wouldn't listen.

Robin and the rest of the Strawhats are experts at backing a dumbass captain who doesn't listen. So really, he came to the right place.

She hadn't expected to be offered food in return, though, and immediately an instinctual suspicion flared in her mind, giving her pause. But she tamped it down with a smile. He'd assume he's committed some grievous offense if she didn't trust him, and if there was ever going to be a chance for them to be anything more than mere acquaintances, trust would be key. Robin took a breath, and accepts the proffered bite, though it would be a few minutes before the tenseness in her shoulders began to relax.

"Do you and Ace fight often?" she asked, in part to keep him too preoccupied to notice her hesitation, partly out of curiosity.

Marco smiled softly at her delayed reaction. Of course.

Because Robin was the smartest person he'd ever met, challenged only possibly by his father, he had tendency to forget her past. No one could work long with Crocodile and not wind up a little paranoid.

Still the fact that she did still trust him enough to accept the food made him like a proud crowing peacock. He wondered idly if that was how normal people felt the first time they were able to convince wild birds that they meant no harm and offer them a present of food instead. It might explain a lot.

"That depends," he quipped easily, and idly made another bite of food for her, but this time left her to decide what to do with it, since he didn't want to embarrass her, or pressure since screwing up her courage for even one might have been quite the struggle, "Is it Tuesday?"

He gave a wry grin. "Ace is very smart, but it's hard not to take it for granted sometimes. When he doesn't get something, it's impossible to help him see it. He has to find it out for himself, and usually in some bizarre way no one possibly could have expected."

Edited 2014-07-07 20:30 (UTC)

He frowned softly.

"Fist fights don't bother me. With Ace, I think he only respects someone who's willing to punch him in the jaw." Marco shook his head and the frown deepened a little, "Even when he asked me to be his first mate he said he wanted someone who would kick his ass."

He leaned his chin into a hand. "But I can't protect the crew's best interests if I'm too worried about protecting his, and vice versa. There's a balance there..." Was he trying too hard to map it, or was he just lost? Was it a dead end, or was he running from a dead end long before even got there?

"Have you ever played those pencil mazes? You draw a line through the maze and try to get from start to finish without getting lost? I feel like I'm always flying over one of those that spans in all directions, all the way past the horizon and keeps going. And sometimes I can see the dead ends so I don't go that way, and other times... I just worry about dead ends so I don't know whether it's safe to go... and that's what takes me so long to do some things. To get anywhere." His cheeks flushed again and he looked directly down before mumbling, "S'what took me so long... takes me so long... with you." Aye, he was pretty sure even his ears had to be pink at that suggestion, but it had to be said for the next part.

He cleared his throat and added, "Anyway, Ace just runs. And if he hits a wall, he doesn't turn around or even look to see if there's another path, he just does everything he can to bash it down." He chuckled softly, "And you know what? Sometimes that works for him." Marco shook his head, "But I could never work like that. Even when I've tried, it's ended up very painfully."

He's starting to confuse himself again. He had a point to it all, but somehow in the midst of the metaphor he got himself turned around. What was the point to it again? Ah, right.

"I don't know how to determine what is important enough to fight his decisions on," the frown was back. "Everything makes me miserable, nothing will doom us to failure. I can't let him pick which things are important to the crew's well-being, that's my job, but--" he pinched the bridge between his eyes with one hand, leaving the fork in the other so that Robin could hide it on him for all he cared, actually he'd find it cute, because Marco was weird, "If it is important, he only ever sees things on his own. I don't even know how to give him opportunities to see it... at least not yet." He dropped his hand and gave her a wry grin, "Or most likely I am overthinking it and seeing dead ends to avoid where there are none, eh?"

"It seems plausible," she chuckled. "You also seem to feel the need to retrace ground you've already covered. Ad infinitum." The choice about food had already been made. The tenth bite would be no different from the first. Robin felt a burst of sudden, playful mischief. She caught Marco's eye, letting lust and desire mingle in her expression, then ran her tongue along the bottom of the fork to make it stand up before clamping down over the food on the tip with only the faintest flash of teeth. A part of her wanted to wilt in shame at such an embarrassingly strange display. Another part only wished it could be considered the most shameful thing she'd ever done. She never broke eye contact.

Another wry grin, "I hadn't noticed." Although he said it in deadpan, he meant it too. Still, if he was going too slowly maybe it meant he could relax and let go of the tightness on the reins for a bit if nothing else. He made a mental note to let himself go faster...

But then his brain completely fizzled out.

That was just plain cheating.

He couldn't think of anything half as sexy, and he couldn't remember ever envying a fork before.

"Ah..." he leaned closer, his fingers gently brushing under chin with a small grin before evilly putting some food on her nose in revenge. Of course it was petty, but he smirked evilly all the same. "You have a little something right there. Want me to get it?" He half expected her to use an extra tongue to lick it off though, just to make him laugh. Or to shove him out of his chair in her own revenge. Whichever.

This was exactly why Robin generally refused to do inhumanly embarrassing things. Someone would always find a way to make it worse. She did like his fingers under her chin, she decided. Unfortunately he ruined the moment with some sort of condiment. Robin arched an eyebrow.

"You honestly intend to lick my nose?"

He probably should have smeared it over her lips.

Marco burst out laughing. "What do you take me for? I'm a bird not a puppy."

He rolled his wrist and proffered her a napkin, ready to gently dab it back off. "Just because I've gotten used to our captain's eating habits doesn't mean I wish to emulate them personally, yoi."

He stole a quick kiss to her cheek and whispered in ear, "I just wanted to see if there was anything that could make you look even a little less gorgeous, but it would seem the joke is on me, it just serves as a reminder that you aren't so easily marred."

"I can't figure out if you're being completely sincere when you go on like that, or if you've been given the impression it's what women want to hear," Robin canted her head to the side, regardless.

He gently tickled fingers back under her chin again, "I am both as serious and as flippant as I always am. It's part of my mysterious charm, yoi." Charm, deadpan insanity, one of those.

Robin felt her pulse jumping, little flurries of ice cascading through her body. If only he hadn't chosen to start talking about himself at that moment. It gave her the opportunity to dart away. A sprouted hand pressed at his lips with a finger. "I think I read that line in a book once," she giggled. "Or something similar enough. Does it work often?"

That got a huge laugh out of him. "Okay, now I know you're onto me." He pulled back, his eyes sparkling mischieviously. He was pretty sure it's from a book too, despite being the one who just said it. Marco shook his head. "Beats me. I don't usually care if anyone thinks I'm charming or an idiot, eh? It works for Thatch though, but he has a lot more going for him."

He gently tucked a strand of her hair back behind an ear as an excuse to peer into her eyes, "And it got you to laugh, eh?"

"I didn't realize my laughter was so rare that it could be considered a prize." Robin cocked her head to the side, furrowing her brow.

"Don't give me that look," Marco frowned back, "Remember the time you were giggling against your will? I promised I couldn't sober you up, but I could at least try to make it a willing laughter, yoi." He stuck his tongue out for emphasis.

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Date night

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