Franky's interview with the intelligence agents was uneventful. Mister Two returned with a different woman, some cute young thing, with faded blue hair, named Wednesday. He was beginning to sense a theme with these names.

They asked him all sorts of questions about his current work at the lab, where he went to school, his relationships with the other researchers, et cetera. They even eventually worked up the courage to ask him about his hand.

Once the questioning was over Franky headed back to his lab to make adjustments to the pocket-sized drill he had been working on the other day, as it had worked so well it burned out the motor. As he got settled he noticed the familiar sound of whispering coming from behind Usopp's work wall.

"Don't you ever work?" Franky whined, causing Nami's judgemental stare to peep out from behind the clutter.

"I asked Doctor Haredas for a break," she said. Then she suddenly started beaming. "Wait! Were you just with the agents?"

Franky raised his eyebrows at the girl. He swore she was one of the most nosey people he had ever met. She knew pretty much every other interns' secrets. He was almost certain that she hunting for potential blackmail. He started writing down an equation, only to be interrupted by the red-head slamming her hands on his desk.

"What?" He growled.

"Wasn't she hot?" Nami asked, leaning on his desk.

Franky stopped writing. Surely Usopp hadn't told her about the incident the other day. He looked at his intern who was hanging up blueprints. He groaned. No, Usopp totally would have told her.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, resuming his work.

"Wednesday!"

Franky looked up at her. There was an almost innocent excitement in her eyes that he had never seen before. The girl sighed.

"I ran into her in the hall the other day," she said. "And- I don't know. She was just so... cool. She even gave me her number, and I asked her out, but she apparently can't hang out without supervision since I work here and they're investigating-"

Franky's jaw dropped. "You asked her out?"

"That's what I said!" Usopp yelled.

Nami scowled.

"You have a problem?" She accused.

The older man raised his hands in defense. She wasn't a big girl, but Nami was definitely an intimidating one.

"No, no," he said. "Just impressed. That's all."

The girl frowned, taking a seat on the edge of Usopp's desk.

"Anyways. Apparently her superior 'Miss All Sunday' insists on chaperoning, so I was wondering... would you mind coming and keeping her busy?"

Nami then put on her best pout. Her bottom lip quivered. Her eyes were watering dark brown orbs. She was admittedly adorable, but Franky had years of steeling himself against Kokoro's granddaughter.

"Why not ask Usopp," he said, shooting his intern a glare. "He seems to have plenty of time on his hands."

Usopp let out an overdramatic gasp, and covered his heart. "Are you suggesting I rob you of the chance to eat with your dream woman?"

There were very few times Franky wanted to punch his intern. This was one of them.

Nami's eyes were on him like a lion on a gazelle. "Ew. What? Dream woman?"

"Miss All Sunday. Franky tried to ask for her real name and she totally shot him down," the dark-skinned boy blurted.

The man placed his forehead on his cool aluminum alloy limb. It felt nice on his warm face. Usopp was excitedly recounting the tale of Franky's experience with the agents, much to Nami's amusement. By the end Nami was leaning over him, scribbling something on his paper.

"This is the address," she stated once she finished. "We're meeting there Friday night at 10 pm."

"That's so late," Franky complained.

"Whatever, old man. You're going. Unless you want everyone to know about your little crush."

And so Franky, the one armed engineer, found himself standing in the middle of a noisy college bar. It had been too long since the last time that he had been at a bar. Smoke filled his nostrils as drunk co-ed's pressed past him. Fortunately he was tall enough that it did not take him long to find Nami who was seated at a table on the far wall. Seated across from her was the blue-haired girl, who was now wearing a skimpy cocktail dress. Next to her wearing a gorgeous black slip dress and, surprisingly enough, a smile was Miss All Sunday.

Franky gulped. He was considering just leaving. The laughter of young people as they pounded back shots made him feel especially old, and that made him feel like a creep. He could still make it out unnoticed if he left that second.

Nami's eyes wandered over the room before resting on the man. She smiled and waved at him. Too late; he was trapped.

"Hello ladies," he said as he arrived at the table, eliciting giggles from the two younger women. He looked at Miss All Sunday. Her smile was gone. He extended his good hand to the blue haired girl. "Pleasure to meet you again Miss Wednesday."

"Nice to meet, you Franky," the girl replied, shaking his hand. She glanced at Nami, who gave her a thumbs up, then she looked at the other woman at the table. "This is my supervisor, Miss All Sunday."

Franky extended his right hand to the woman. She looked down at it and then his other hand before giving him a light handshake.

"Yes, we have met before," Miss All Sunday said, in a smooth seductive voice. "So you go by Franky?"

"Yes," Franky answered, pulling his, now sweaty, hand away. "I'm glad you remember me…"

Nami snorted. She hid her mouth with one hand and quickly took a sip of her fruity looking cocktail. Wednesday also was giggling. The woman looked at Franky, cocking an eyebrow. He shrugged.

"Mmm," Nami hummed, setting down her drink. Then she began to rise from her seat. "What would you like to drink? It's on me."

The man placed a hand on the clearly tipsy girl's shoulder, pushing her back into her seat. He looked to Miss All Sunday who was gracefully sipping a martini. Then he gave the girl a reassuring grin.

"That is very nice of you, but I think I can handle one beer," He said.

Once he had a drink in hand, he sat down at the table next to Nami, who was slouched over resting her head in her palm. Wednesday took a dainty sip from her drink and smiled, shyly. Miss Sunday, was once again avoiding eye contact with Franky.

"We should play a game," the red-head suddenly announced. The entire table looked at her. "How about two truths and a lie?"

Nobody particularly agreed to the game, but Nami continued on.

"Try to guess which one the lie is. One: I grew up on an orchard. Two: I used to dress up as a zombie every year to scare the boy scouts. Three: I used to work in a strip club."

Franky watched as pensive looks came across both Wednesday and Sunday's faces. He personally thought the last one was obviously true; even if she wasn't the stripper he could totally see the feisty girl working there. Of the first two he thought he remembered hearing her tell Usopp about growing tangerines once...

"Well?" the girl prompted, looking them over mischievously.

"Is it number one?" Wednesday asked.

Nami stuck her tongue out. "Bzzz bzzz."

"It's number two," Franky answered before taking a long draw of his beverage.

Nami clapped her hands together.

"Wow! Franky, you know me well," she exclaimed. Then she took a large sip of her drink and pointed at the other girl. "Your turn Wednesday."

Miss Wednesday appeared to blush and put her hands to her cheeks.

"Hmmm... let's see," she pondered out loud. Then she seemed to come into some confidence of her own. "Oh! One: I punched my childhood crush in the face. Two: I have a pet duck. Three: it's my birthday tomorrow!"

Miss Sunday smirked, taking another quiet sip from her martini. Franky studied her carefully. She clearly knew which the lie was. Being her supervisor, it was pretty likely that she knew when Wednesday's real birthday was. The man had made his decision.

"Number three," he said.

Wednesday giggled and shook her head. Nami smirked beside him, and Sunday also seemed quite amused.

"Why do you think we're going out tonight?" The girl teased.

"Well..." Franky cleared his throat. "Happy early birthday then."

Then Wednesday turned to his comrade and winked. "Which do you think it is."

"Number two?" She answered, smiling apologetically. Wednesday beamed and whipped out her phone, to show a lock-screen of her holding a yellow and black speckled duck. Nami squealed, grabbing the phone from her. "He's so cute! I've never been so happy to be wrong."

"His name is Carue," the other girl explained.

Miss Sunday smiled serenely to herself as the girls gabbed about pets. Franky frowned. Perhaps it was just a coincidence that she looked like Robin after all. This woman was so relaxed even around so many young people. Now that he thought about it, she could actually be pretty young herself. He had no idea how old she was.

"Alright, Sunday," Wednesday said. "I went; now it's your turn."

The woman's smile faded as they all turned to look at her. She lifted a finger to her lips, pensively. Then she lowered her hand and smiled. Franky gulped in anticipation.

"Very well," she replied. "One: My first love lost his hand because of me..."

Franky's heart sped up. His mouth was dry, and his left arm ached. It could just be coincidence. It had to just be coincidence. The woman glanced in his direction, eyes flashing. There was something cold and calculating behind them, as if she was testing to see what his reaction would be. The girls were also looking at him.

"Two: I have a shrunken head collection..."

Another eerie thing that he could see Robin saying. Franky shifted uncomfortably. He looked away and took a large gulp of beer.

"And Three: Dandelions are my favorite flower."

Memories of all the days he spent with Robin out in the wildflowers came flooding through his memory. Her smile as she put blossoms in his hair. The secret of his favorite flower that he had shared... That settled it.

"Number three," he answered, confident in his response.

Nami laughed nervously beside him. Miss Sunday smiled, eyes dark and daring.

"Is that your final answer?" She taunted.

Franky nodded.

"Then you would be wrong," she responded coyly, never breaking eye contact. "It's number one."

A hot coal planted itself in Franky's stomach at that moment. There was no doubt in his mind now that this was Robin, and she clearly remembered him. Not only that, but she was also challenging him. But why? Didn't she realize how long he had searched for her? Didn't she know how he had worried about what they had possibly done to her?

"Hey, Franky, you okay?" Nami said patting his shoulder.

The man looked down. His synthetic hand had clenched itself into a fist while he wasn't looking. He willed it to release and gave the girl a big grin.

"Super," he said. Then he shook his head and looked at Miss Sunday who was staring away at the bar. "It's my turn to go, right?"

Nami, cleared her throat and backed away from him. "Uh... Yeah."

Franky placed his cybernetic arm on the table and put on his best poker face.

"So," he growled. "Number one: My hands have touched rocks on Mars."

Miss Sunday still refused to look at him.

"Two: I have never had a girlfriend."

There was small twitch in the corner of the woman's lips. He was getting somewhere.

"And number three, Miss All Sunday..." The woman looked at him. "I know your real name."

The woman's eyes grew wide. She pursed her lips.

"Franky," Nami scolded. "This is supposed to be difficult. It's obviously number three."

Franky grinned, before taking a sip of beer and looking at her.

"You're right," he laughed. "Guess I'm just not very good at this game."

Miss Sunday studied him warily, as the loud sound of record scratching filled the room and the lighting changed from red to blue. Wednesday's eyes glittered with excitement as she looked around the room. Nami smiled and grabbed her hand across the table.

"Come on, let's dance," she called over the now pounding music.

Franky and Sunday both watched as the two girls made their way to the dance floor, disappearing among the throng of college students.

"Aren't you supposed to be babysitting?" He asked, smirking; the woman wasn't making eye contact with him.

"I don't particularly care to be propositioned by strangers," she replied simply.

"What if it was me?"

She stared at him. He extended his left hand to her. The woman glanced down at the metal fingers which moved fluidly open and closed. She let out a scoff, but then, to Franky's surprise, clasped his hand in her own.

He gently led her through the crowd until they had eyes on Nami and Wednesday who were clearly having fun bumping and grinding to the hip hop beats. Meanwhile he and the woman awkwardly stood among the lusty young couples just lightly swaying side to side. Despite his tough demeanor, Franky was usually quite the energetic dancer, but standing next to the woman made him nervous to even step wrong. Then a large young man stumbled backwards pressing the raven-haired damsel into his chest. His face felt like it was on fire. That was when he realized she was still holding his hand. She put her other hand between them as if to press away.

Suddenly there was the sound of high pitched guitars and the music morphed into a mellow salsa beat. Franky seized his opportunity and wrapped his right hand around the woman's waist, pulling her back against him. He studied her eyes as she looked up at him. There was something soft and timid about the way her eyes glistened in the blue light.

"Do you know how to bachata, Sunday?" He asked beginning to lead her in a two-step.

Step, step, step, stop.

"No, but I believe I can learn," she answered, coyly following his lead. "I assume that's what we're doing right now."

His hips rolled against hers as they hit another stop and he rolled her into the opposite direction. He grinned as she reciprocated on the next stop. Her free hand wandered up and around his neck, as the two move in total unity. His hand slid from her lower back to rest on her hip bone. She smiled, and to Franky it was as if he was nineteen again, except better. He pressed his mouth near her ear, taking in the scent of her floral perfume.

Step, step, step, stop.

"Why are we pretending like we're strangers?" he whispered, holding her tighter.

The woman didn't skip a beat. "I do not know what you could mean."

Their hips rolled in unison as they hit another beat.

"I'm not an idiot," he responded, a bit louder this time. "That business with the two truths and a lie... As if I could ever forget you." Then he quickly whipped her into a turn and a half dip. "Robin..."

Her gaze went cold as she pressed a hand between them.

"You cannot call me that name," she whispered. "It's dangerous enough that they know we've met."

"Is that why you've been playing games with me? Because it's dangerous?" he said. She attempted to shush him, but Franky's elation and frustration were welling up inside him like a geyser. "I went through five surgeries, nearly died twice, and you think I care if it's dangerou-"

He was cut off by the feeling of her lips pressed against his. They were even softer and warmer than he remembered Suddenly in that moment it felt like every other thing he might have been feeling melted away. His fingers wove themselves through her hair. She clasped his face in her hands.

"Get a room!" Someone yelled, prompting Franky to flip them a very shiny middle finger.

He and Robin separated. There was something so cold and lonely in her eyes. His hand dropped to her cheek.

"That should give you some closure," she said, backing away. "Now, please forget about me."

Then she went over to where the girls were still dancing and grabbed Wednesday. Franky tried to catch her hand, but she was too fast and he was too numb. He watched as the two of them argued for a second before the they eventually left. Nami stormed over to him.

"What did you do?" She demanded. When he didn't respond, she looked him over carefully. Anger turned to disgust. "Ew. Are you crying?"

Franky sniffed. He was. He sure was.