Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or any of the characters in this story. This fic here is purely a passion-piece.

Author's Notes: Speaking of passion, this fic here is a…what you could call a "love" story, featuring a not-so-popular pairing in the OP fandom. Crocodile + Robin = Crocobin. Maybe I'm the only crazy one who saw chemistry between them during the Alabasta Arc. My head-canon went a bit wild, hence this fic.

Warnings: Spoilers, all the way up to the Wano Arc. Possibly beyond, if my clairvoyant abilities are any good. And in case you missed it when clicking on, this fic is M-rated: plenty of very adult themes, including strong sexual themes. Kind of goes with the up-and-down dynamics of a years' long, unhealthy relationship. Because I don't think a Crocobin fic can be written in any other way. Plus, there is violence and heavy tobacco usage. Seems to go hand-in-hand with anything Crocodile related.

Oh, and adult language. Bad words. Watch out for those!

Well…enough of my ramblings. Let's get to the story. Please enjoy! ^_^

Chapter 1: Memories

A half-glass of wine failed to keep Nico Robin asleep for long. An hour or so, if that. Regardless, she hardly felt rested. No sunshine bled past the slight cracks in the drapes when she opened her eyes. Darkness surrounding the room. This strange hotel room. Though, she found herself wrapped in an all-to-familiar embrace. His embrace. The embrace of a man whom she swore would never touch her again. This man known around the world as Sir Crocodile.

Sir Crocodile. Robin only knew him as a despicable bastard. Not a gentleman. Yet, he had worked some sort of charm on her to make her undress before him one more time. Then, proceeded to ravage her like an animal. What could've happened to her had wrath, rather than lust, been the deadly sin he chose to exercise the night before? Her crewmates were unaware she had snuck off the ship to see him. While the Straw Hats specifically traveled to the island of Merdel to meet with the underworld veteran, they did not know the exact location of his secret base. Nico Robin being the sole exception. Only because he wanted her to be.

"It's been awhile. Come and see me. By yourself. I only want to talk."

Talk? Yeah, right. Whatever conversation they did have, was over and done with in less than fifteen minutes. Despite two years apart, neither had much to say to one another. However, the strategic use of three little words was what did it for her. Stunned her. Immobilized her. Her brain had seized to function correctly as it struggled to process them.

"I love you."

Bullshit. A man like him could never know love.

For most of her life, Robin didn't think she could either. But she did once…for him. Or at least that is what she once thought. In a world that had been mostly cruel to her, marred her as the Demon Child, she had to admit his shows of affection felt…they had felt nice. Didn't matter that he was one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. A world-class scumbag. He held that position for close to twenty years. For him to acknowledge her as a partner, as his equal, it meant more to her than any luxury he could ever gift. Though, those fancy trinkets did serve as icing on the cake. It was a beautiful time, for as little as it lasted.

Falling in love…

...the fall…

...that was the part…the part…

It didn't feel like falling until one slammed face first into reality. Crocodile could never feel that same way for her. His pride and twisted ideals, or lack thereof, would never allow it.

Tears washed away from Robin's face by the warm water pouring over her head in the shower. White marble with gold fixtures. His tastes hadn't changed in the slightest. Robin's apparently hadn't either. Why else would she have spent the night with him? Let him touch her, hold her, slide himself between her legs...

Why...after everything... everything he did to her?

A stroll down Memory Lane was required. Retrace her steps. Attempt to figure out where in the hell it was she had screwed up so badly. Lost track of how much time she had been massaging shampoo into her long raven locks.

"You let your hair grow out. I like it. Really like it."

Stop. Too soon to recount the events from the night before. Their history…the complications. The start had to be there.

That brief period of simple bliss. The so-called, "honeymoon-phase". Lasted no longer than a handful of months. Sex being taken off the table rather early on. Out of the four years together, their relationship was one more of stale convenience in place of fiery hot passion. Yet, in a professional sense, they still found uses for each other. Her damn bounty of 79-million-berries being what severely limited her options. Forced her to stay with him for much longer than she should've.

To date, she remained a fugitive of the law. But with his privileges as a Warlord, a government-sanctioned privateer used to control other, lesser pirates from running amuck, she was able to hide out in the desert kingdom of Alabasta in relative peace for quite some time. Well…former-privileges. Crocodile abused those to the point that he was a now a fugitive as well.

That was the kind of man he was. A thief and a crook. And a murderer. Robin never forgot the people he killed right in front of her. Never forgot how he had almost killed her, the woman he proclaimed to love.

So what if she reneged on her promise to deliver him Pluton? One of the most devastating weapons to have ever existed. Capable of obliterating an island with a single shot. A buster call could only wish to be so efficient. Robin, witnessing one first-hand, couldn't imagine a single man having such power. Although, as a twenty-four-year-old woman experiencing love for the very first time, she was enamored by the thought of "her man" taking revenge against the World Government. On her behalf, as well as his own. Together, hand-in-hand, the world becoming theirs. No longer forced to run. No longer forced to hide.

The power of those rose-colored glasses was awfully powerful. Had she told this psychopath the exact location of Pluton, there would've been no world left for them to have a happily-ever-after.

Luckily, by the time they found the poneglyph with its location inscribed in the ancient-text only she could decipher, those rose-colored glasses had long fallen off. Broken. Smashed under her designer boots. Crocodile had shown his true colors too soon. Far too soon. Resentment had a chance to fester deep within her. So deep, in fact, she had murder on her mind. She had even pondered on a few plots. Only one which ended up being executed. Albeit, in the heat of the moment rather than premeditated. Obviously a failure.

While on that day he claimed to have never trusted her, there were plenty of opportunities where he had left himself considerably vulnerable. If she truly had it in her, he'd have been six-feet-under already.

One such instance was the night before discovering that large black block of a poneglyph, hidden away in the underground Royal Tomb where the former kings of Alabasta laid to rest. Crocodile was more than a little tipsy, celebrating the success of Operation: Utopia prematurely. He came to her room sputtering a bunch of nonsense, slurring and stumbling. Had Robin really wanted to, there was no better chance than to off him then. But a man full of surprises, he caught her completely off-guard with those Damn. Three. Little. Words:

I love you.

A drunk man tells no tales. Isn't that how the old saying goes?

Nevertheless, it no longer mattered. By then, she was more than ready to move on. Kiss Baroque Works goodbye and get the hell out of Alabasta. No number of jewels or empty promises would ever be enough to earn back her doe-eyed affections. Though, seeing him in such a pathetic state did earn her mercy. She would gain no satisfaction in drenching him in water, slitting his throat while he was passed out on her bed. Such an act would only affirm she deserve him. Only him. She wanted better.

In the days leading up to that night, she was confident he would trash his own plans. But when and where she could, she tossed in a little kindling to ensure a fire would blaze with the right sparks. Burn everything to the ground so there was no chance for a comeback. Starting with the recruitment of Princess Vivi. Allowed her to infiltrate Baroque Works. Promoted her and her servant, Igaram, up to Frontier Agents. If they wanted to save their country from the toxic grip of a criminal syndicate, so be it. Crocodile, no longer wanting to be bothered with the minutiae of day-to-day operations, left far too many responsibilities to the "woman he never trusted". The very one he crowned his Vice President and Second-in-Command. So while had the right mindset in not trusting her, being the narcissist that he was, he didn't do a very good job of practicing the crap that he preached. That required far too much effort than he was willing to put in.

Arrogant jackass. So full of himself, he must've thought she would never betray him. Could never do anything to hurt him. Completely unaware, he was, that she was silently cheering on Princess Vivi and the group of rookie pirates she had enlisted to help her. The Straw Hats. The tenacious bunch of seven naïve youngsters managed to pull off what seemed impossible. Dismantled Baroque Works and exposed Crocodile for the deplorable fraud he was.

Crocodile, in part, gave them a helping-hand. Inadvertently, of course. Being hungover on the final day of Operation: Utopia. Not very well prepared for last-minute hiccups.

The nicotine content of the cigars he liked to chain-smoke did help him become decently functional. Speech-pattern returned to fairly normal. Though, when faced in combat, he was significantly rusty. Not much of an issue as a logia devil-fruit user, where most attacks went right through him, essentially making him untouchable. He could just stand there and wait for an opponent to wear themselves out.

But a rookie pirate discovered his secret. That just a splash of any liquid was enough to disable his sand-based devil-fruit powers. Crocodile did a piss-pour job of dodging hits once he was forced into a fair melee matchup. Still took Straw Hat Luffy two attempts to beat semi-sloshed Crocodile, but when he did, the resulting knock-out was most spectacular. Punched him through at least fifty feet of bedrock from inside the Royal Tomb. Sent him flying across the skies of Alubarna, the capital city. Crowded with a million angry rebels and royal guards. A massive audience to witness the downfall of the Hero of Alabasta. Discovered he was nothing more than the worst kind of pirate when he landed smackdab in the middle of the town square. Fittingly, the rain began to fall while he was unconscious. Easier for the Marines to haul his ass off to jail.

Robin wished she could've witnessed every minute of his humiliating defeat. However, he had left her to die in that collapsing Royal Tomb. Mercy wasn't exactly a trait he was known for, and couldn't even show it for her. He had taken a strike at her. Stabbed her. With that massive golden hook he donned on at the end of his left arm. He used it to gore her through the back. Its tip piercing through the skin over her right breast. Had it not been for the saving-grace of Straw Hat Luffy, who had only known her as the enemy then, Crocodile would have succeeded in killing her. To return the favor, she passed Luffy the antidote she carried to counteract the scorpion poison Crocodile hid inside his hook. Though, her will to live was essentially gone at that moment, she was touched by Luffy's selfless act of kindness. Crocodile could never…

When that son of a bitch no longer had a use for her, he showed her what he would do.

She more than knew what he was capable of, but she had hoped that down in that Royal Tomb, he would prove her wrong. If he did truly love her, he…he could've figured out another way to get his hands on Pluton. Though, preferably, she would liked for him to forget about that terrible weapon altogether.

As if that would have changed anything.

Her life was cursed. All because that stupid bounty of hers. She was bound to be faced with endless disappointments and betrayals since the only people she could turn to had to be criminals carrying their own bounties. Not a lot of said folks were very good people. Crocodile serving as another example. When stowing away on the Straw Hats' ship, choosing them to be her new "victims", she wasn't expecting them to be any different.

But…they were. They even called her their friend. Even before she chose to be friendly with them. They went so far as to put their lives on the line for her. Fought for her. Challenged the World Government just so she could go on journeying with them along the Grand Line.

Imagining Sir Crocodile doing the same…

He once had a snail-phone connecting him straight to government bureaucrats. If it wasn't for the promise for Pluton, he could have very easily given them a call and not had to bother with her at all. Hell, when the two of them were fucking on a regular basis, he never regarded her than anything more than a partner. As "lover", she doubted he could even say the word. Not with sincerity.

The proof of how much of a bastard he was marked her body.

Once out of the shower, Robin went over to the fogged-out mirror to study for herself. Grabbed a crisp white towel from the rack over the toilet on the way there. She then leaned over the white marble sink and wiped away enough of the fog so that she could see her topless form. Observe the latest work of that self-absorbed asshole through her puffy, reddened eyes.

Hickeys…she counted at least four of them. Easier to find with her skin-tone lightening up after sailing away from the sun trap of Alabasta for good. With each new one she found, something akin to rage stirred within her. Leaning in closer to the mirror to get a better look at these nasty little things, she found the smallest one sat at the base of her jawline. Barely noticeable. Heavy pink in color, no wider than a fingernail, could be easily disregarded as a minor rash. But the worse them, which was both a bruise and a bite, was about half the size of a tangerine. Sat above her right breast. Interestingly, a close neighbor of that scar he left behind after effectively declaring their partnership over. That goddamn hook…

Hickeys were also known as "love bites", weren't they? Bite marks and bruises should never be known as such. Abhorrent buggers. Robin hated them even back in the day. Back when she had repeatedly thrown herself into Crocodile's arms as a love-stricken idiot. His love-stricken idiot. Regardless of how she once felt about him, Robin knew how she felt about this one specific show of "affection". She even told him on more than one occasion that she did not like them. Eventually, the message did sink into that thick skull of his.

Setting her eyes on a fresh set bothered her quite a bit. They made her feel uncomfortable. Violated, even. They made her feel as though she was back to being that twenty-four-year-old who he played as his fool. The one who had so foolishly walked straight into the crocodile's den, well-aware of his reputation as a nefarious scoundrel. The World Government didn't pick softies to do their dirty work. When she had told him that she was interested in working for him, he had given her one unsettling smile. Complete with a cigar clenched between his yellow teeth.

What in the hell ticked in her brain for her to go, "I want this man. I love this man. I never want to live without this man."?

His fool, indeed. A horrifically cringy one, at that.

Her stupidity could be immediately deduced just by taking one good look at the skin over her right breast. The scar and the bruise. The old and new. He hurt her before and was more than capable of doing it again.

Fresh tears fell from Robin's eyes. How was it that during the two years apart, feelings for him still lingered on? Hell, it was almost close to six years since he first proposed their relationship should be nothing more than purely business. And she had accepted without objecting, disregarding how much it had killed her inside. Had he kept to that promise, perhaps she could have moved on by now. But he had the annoying habit of yanking her back down whenever life began to look a little brighter. When her future plans no longer involved him. It was like the bastard could sense when his relevance fading. Impel Down, the world's most secure prison, wasn't fortified enough to keep him away. In the vast sea of the Grand Line, the unknown of the New World, he managed to find her. Found a way to reinsert himself into her life, using her very friends to do so.

Robin wanted to scream, but all she could do was cry. She sunk down to the floor as pain ripped through her soul, crippling her. Wailed as her knees touched the tile floor. The towel still in her hand was used to bury her face. As though if she prayed hard enough, it would whisk her away. Far away. To somewhere he could never find her.

Knock, knock. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You alright in there?" Crocodile hollered in that gruff voice of his through the bathroom door. A door she made sure to lock before walking into the shower. And the one she was able to catch the scent of burning tobacco through.

The lever-handle jostled as he tries to turn it. Ice shot through Robin's veins, hoping he wouldn't resort to brute force to gain entry.

"What the hell…," she heard him mumble. He then jostled the handle on his side even harder before saying, "Hey, you mind unlocking the door?"

How stupid did he think she was?

"Leave me alone!" Robin shouted to him. Then, instantly regretting it. She didn't want to anger him. Provoke him into breaking down the door. She just needed time. Some time to think. Of a plan to escape. "I…I still need to dry m-my hair," her voice cracked near the end.

Chills continue to freeze her spine. Anxiety was not something she handled well when it set in. One of the reasons she mostly kept an indifferent demeanor. Cold. Quiet.

"Oh…okay," he responded, sounding confused. "There's a heating dial under the sink that you can use. Have you used one of those before?"

A heating dial? How did he get his hands on one of those? Weren't they only found in the sky islands?

Why did that matter? She just needed to get him away from the door.

"Yes, I do," Robin answered. Honestly, though she wouldn't have stated differently if it weren't true.

"Good…good," he said, adding a few soft taps on the door. "Well…I'm out here if you need me. I love you, babe."

I love you, babe…

How repulsive. Robin almost wanted to vomit. She scoffed to herself as she worked to stand herself back up. Lord help her if she ever found herself needing him for anything again.

Before fishing out the aforementioned dial from under the sink, she turned on the faucets. Pooled water in her hands to wash her face. Ridded it of the salt of her tears and soothe her eyes. In the mirror, she took another look at her chest. Over her right breast. The bruise and the scar. Crocodile had given her both.

With a light dab from a single finger, pain could be felt within the bruise. Over the teeth-marks, especially. The scar…it used to hurt like hell back when the wound was still fresh. And at first, she was stuck treating it herself. As the former partner of a disgraced Warlord, asking for help wasn't exactly an option. Stowing away on the Straw Hats' ship, then the Going Merry, she found everything she needed. But it wasn't until their return a few days later that the ship's doctor, a Mr. Tony Tony Chopper, the sweetest little talking reindeer with a genius intellect, tended to her wounds properly. After several weeks of regular treatments of fresh ointment and bandages, the scar left behind was nothing but a shallow pucker over her skin. No longer discolored.

It didn't matter that she was a former enemy of his. He claimed it was a doctor's sworn duty to help heal anyone who needed them. Who they were and what they did be damned.

Chopper was a great friend. All the Straw Hats were. Robin grew to love them above anything else. And she wanted to be there for them as they had always been there for her. Put all the mess with Baroque Works behind her. Put Crocodile behind her.

"The moment I saw you in Wano again...I knew I was still in love with you."

"I h-hate you...hate you so much, Crocodile…," Robin sobbed, with a new stream of tears falling from her eyes. The sound of the dial partly obscuring her cry.

He could not know he could still do this to her.

Fin

…just kidding….

TO BE CONTINUED

A/N: Boy, this was a beast of a chapter to write. Don't let its length fool you. Took a couple of drafts before I got a version I liked. Have a bunch of other scrap documents, which I will later use to hopefully help me finish this fic in a timely manner. But first, I wanted to get things off on the right foot. Do this pair of tortured souls some justice. There aren't a whole lot of Crocobin fics out there, so I feel as a Crocobin-stan, it is my duty to write this pairing the best of my ability.

Am I the only psycho who read waaaay into their brief interactions during the Alabasta Saga? Like there's something there, but Oda can't quite write it. Yet. I'm holding out hope for the final saga of the series. I can't be the only one who has noted Oda gradually pushing the boundaries of what he can and cannot do with a shonen-series. In the twenty years he's been writing One Piece. I think the Alabasta Saga was perfect for time it came out. And still holds up today. But if it does turn out to be canon that Robin and Crocodile's partnership wasn't just strictly-business, that would certainly recontextualize all of Crocodile's appearances in the series thus far. In a good way, in my opinion. He definitely has a vulnerable side, which he is uber insecure about. I can't help but theorize on why that is…

As for Nico Robin, Oda should lean into that whole "Demon Child" angle more. The femme fatale who brought down a warlord. Said warlord only fiends for her more. Now I'm really getting ahead of myself. Haha.

Anyways…in the meantime, thank you all for taking interest in all my head-canons being woven into what you would call a fanfic. Hope you will come back for Chapter 2!

Ta-ta, for now ^_^