Rating: T for nasty implications and some Warlord violence

Spoilers: None

Time Frame: Robin's 24, pre Baroque Works

The desert was nothing like Robin expected.

In the past she had read extensively on the country of Alabasta. Its rich culture and fascinating history made it an archeologist's dream land. However, while books covered many important aspects of Alabastian life, such as appropriate dress, language, and law, they couldn't quite capture the atmosphere of the place.

Robin found it enthralling.

"Damn it!" one of her traveling companions, the first mate of the Hangman Pirates, hissed.

Her other traveling partner, Captain Darius, smirked. "What's got your panties in a bunch, Randal?"

"It's this damn sand. I got some caught up in my nether region, and it itches."

Darius guffawed. "Idiot."

Doing her best to ignore her (hopefully) soon to be ex-crew mates Robin took in the bazaar. Smells she didn't recognize assaulted her nose from a dozen different stalls. Animals hooted, bleated, clucked, and cooed from every direction. Vibrant colors clashed as various merchants tried to sell their wares.

It was hot, of course. The midday sun beat down from overhead, and crowds pushed against one another. All in all, the controlled chaos was fascinating to watch.

"Robin!" Darius said sharply, drawing her out of her reverie.

"Yes?" she said softly. It's almost over, she reminded herself. Just a few more days and I'll be done with these fools.

"Stop gawking. Me 'n Randal are going to find a bathhouse, we'll meet you back at the ship tonight with your report. Got that?"

Nodding her understanding, Robin watched them disappear in the crowd. They were right, in their own stupid way. There would be time for fun later, after she had rid herself of all her distractions.

"So, what'd you see?" Darius asked, his eyes lit up with mischievous glee.

Robin looked around the room, which stank of years of heavy cigar smoking. The five men that made up the Hangman Pirate's war council met her with mixed glares of distrust and fear. She had served their captain faithfully during her time with them, but they-unlike Darius-had not forgotten her reputation.

"Luck is with us," Robin began, letting the glares slide off her easily. "It seems that the city is in its biggest festival of the year."

"Yeah, I figured that the third time some drunk asshole stepped on me. What else have you got?"

"Wait," Randal interrupted. "If it's a holiday, doesn't that mean that the army's out in force? To keep the peace or summthin' like that?"

There were murmurs of agreement, and after a moment Robin raised her hand for silence. "It's true; certain areas of the city are heavily guarded. However, even with the extra protection, there's no way that the army or the local guards can adequately manage all of the extra traffic. If we pick our location properly, the captain's raid will be able to go as planned."

"What do you suggest?" Darius said after a moment of silence. With a quick nod, Robin pulled out a map of the city and laid it on the table.

"Here, here, and here, from my observations today, are all poorly guarded," Robin said, pointing to three spots on her map. "I have no doubts that with your strength you could easily get at least a 50,000 beli profit from each location." There were whispers of excitement from the crew members present.

"And here?" Darius asked, pointing to the name she had circled in red earlier, "What's this 'Rain Dinners' place?"

Randal stood and slammed his hand on the table in outrage. "Absolutely not! There's no way we can attack the casino!" There were was dead silence. Panting, the first mate realized his gaff and slid back into his seat. "Forgive me, sir. I smell treachery. That place…that's Crocodile's business. I heard 'em talking about it in town today."

Darius's gaze slid to Robin. "Is this true? You want us to attack a Warlord's business?"

Feigning admonishment, Robin looked to the ground. "Allow me to explain. Tomorrow night is the biggest night for the festivities. Every business will be closed, and every citizen will either be at the plaza or the capitol. Crocodile will not be present, only a skeleton guard. And since it is a casino the profit margin will be astronomical. Plus, when word gets out your reputation will be higher than ever. I suspect you'll get a bounty rise out of the excursion, if nothing else. And if there's anything I know, it's that reputation is power…" Robin trailed off. "I assumed that's what you would want. Forgive me if I was wrong."

The tension in the room grew to an almost palpable level as Darius stared Robin in the eye, trying to gauge whether or not she was telling the truth. After a moment he threw his head back, howling with laughter.

"It's brilliant!" he gasped between hoots. "Bloody brilliant! Ha ha, I knew taking you in was a good idea, Demon of Ohara. Boys, tomorrow night we attack this casino, and we'll be rich!"

Darius's crew didn't share his joy. Randal's face was ashen, and the other men present shared looks of apprehension.

Robin's knowing smile probably did nothing to reassure them, but they had no way of knowing that inwardly she seethed at the mention of her past, nor how ready she was to be rid of them all.

They schemed well into the night before breaking off the meeting to share their plans with the rest of the crew. Robin rose to leave, but Darius's called for her back. Randal brushed past her, and he didn't even bother to hide the hate from his features.

It wasn't long before Darius and Robin were the only ones in the war room. Rising, the captain swung the door shut. Grinning wildly behind his lit cigar, he turned and leaned against the door.

"Dis plan," he began, his words slurring together from the many drinks he had consumed during the evening, "ya think it'll make m' famous?"

"Who else would have the gall to attack Crocodile on his home turf?" Robin said. She kept her eyes sharp, looking for a way to end the conversation quickly. Darius sauntered closer to her, fingering the rope that he kept looped around his belt.

"I've done ya good, Nico. Let ya sail wit' me when no one else would. We've come a long way, all away from da West Blue."

"You're drunk, Captain," Robin said shortly.

"Mebbe. But tomorrow I'll be famous." He was even closer now; she could smell the stink of the cigar and the liquor on his breath. Robin rose, smoothly and quickly, and held her ground. They were about equal height, but Darius was a strong man. She couldn't have it look like he intimidated her.

"I'm not one of your girls by the docks, Captain," Robin said, a hint of steel filtering through her voice. "I won't let you slide that rope around my neck, and I won't let you listen to me scream. My terms haven't changed since I joined your crew."

That gave him pause, his watery, blood shot eyes openly looking her over. Robin let it slide. Her body was one of the tools at her disposal, and if a man underestimated her because she had a chest, so be it.

"I always get wha' I want. Don' forget that," he slurred.

"Not tonight, you don't," she answered before pushing him aside and going out to the main deck.

The men were celebrating, and likely would be for quite some time. Robin sat in her familiar deck chair and took it in, trying to clear her mind from the filth that she'd left behind in the war room.

"I'm surprised to see you so soon," Randal's sour voice said from behind her.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you mean."

"I think you do."

Robin looked out at the Hangmen Pirate's revelry. "I told him when I joined. This is to be a business venture only."

Pulling up a chair of his own, Randal sat beside her. It was dark, but she could still clearly see his uneasy frown. "When the captain's got an idea in his head, it's impossible to stop it."

"I've never seen anyone try," Robin accused.

"There're some times when it's just better to look away. Then it's easier to pretend it didn't happen," he answered quietly.

"More cowardly, too."

There was a moment of silence. "So what're you gonna do tonight?"

"I think I'll stay out here. Even the captain would be rue to start a scene out on deck with everyone watching," Robin said, wishing for Randal to go away. That way she could make herself a cup of coffee and count down the hours till dawn alone.

"He'll be pissed," Randal warned.

"I think that by tomorrow night he won't even remember."

Nodding in agreement, the first mate rose and returned to the rest of his crew, leaving Robin alone with her thoughts.

The day came and went, and Robin spent most of her time ignoring everyone in general and avoiding Darius in particular. There were last minute plans that needed to be made, many of which required the captain's attention, which made her chore easier. No one noticed that she had gathered all of her necessary belongings in a bag, or that she kept it close to her side.

Finally, around dusk, the Hangman Pirates began making their move. They weren't an overly large crew, with twenty men in their ranks, but they were known for their ruthlessness. In small groups they left for the casino.

Robin guessed it was about eight when everyone was in position. Above her fireworks began cracking in the night sky, obscuring any sound that they might make in the assault. Beside her, Randal shifted from foot to foot, twin daggers in hand.

"When do we go in?" he asked nervously.

"We don't." To his credit, it didn't take him long to understand the meaning behind her words.

"Trait—" Robin cut the first mate off with a few whispered words. With a sickening crack, he slumped the ground, lifeless. Releasing the power he had never known to exist, Robin settled into position and waited.

Nineteen members of the Hangmen Pirates remained, and if she played her cards right they would soon all be dead.

Ears sprouted in the casino, Robin picked up the confusing sounds of a battle that was going badly for her crew. It took only minutes, but every voice that she had sailed with over the past six months was extinguished. There were a few shouts of battle, a few cries for mercy, but in the end there was only silence. A small knot in Robin's stomach loosened. Without the Hangman Pirates to hold her back, she was free.

Her walk around the streets of Rainbase the day before had stirred something that Robin had long thought dead. Alabasta was a far cry from the West Blue, and the events of Ohara were quickly fading from the memories of the people. Here, Robin could reinvent herself. She could change her name, become anyone she wanted to be as she searched the ancient country for a hint of a poneglyph.

No one would know who she was.

It was an idealistic thought, something Robin thought she had cut out of herself years ago, but perhaps not an unrealistic one. Everyone who knew she had gone to the Grand Line lay dead in the Warlord's casino. This was her opportunity.

Behind her, the wind kicked up a small whirlwind of sand. Robin stayed put for a moment and continued listening, just to be sure of the Hangman Pirate's demise. Visual confirmation would be best, but was unfeasible due to the lighting.

Confident in her success, Robin turned to join the citizens watching the fireworks. Again the sand whipped around her, and suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. In that instant Robin knew something had gone horribly wrong.

"Ha ha ha. Who do we have here?" a dry, staccato voice that she had never heard before rumbled behind her. Slowly Robin turned, and came face to face with one of the most dangerous men in the world.

Robin considered herself to be a tall woman, but one of the first things she noticed was how Crocodile loomed over her, a thick fur coat made his already broad shoulders seem broader. The second thing she noticed was the hook hand that gleamed in the moonlight. Noticing her shock, Crocodile grinned. The action cast sinister shadows across his pallid face, and Robin was frozen in place.

"When I heard a little bird tell me a group of idiot pirates would try and rob me, I didn't think that the source would come from you."

A trickle of sweat began to go down the back of Robin's neck. He recognized her. Crocodile knew who she was. Impossible.

"And then," he continued, his voice low and amused, "when the captain of these idiot pirates says that you put them up to it, I couldn't help but wonder to myself what game are you playing, Nico Robin?"

It was like a punch to the gut. Robin's mind couldn't keep up with the situation around her. How did he know who she was? And why was he talking to her in such a familiar manner? Robin's mouth was suddenly to dry to speak. She had survived this long by keeping a relatively low profile, by staying out of the eyes of the big players. Robin was out of her league, and she knew it.

"Come with me, Nico Robin. I've someone who would like to see you."

Wordlessly, Robin followed the Warlord into his casino. The floor was littered with the bodies of her former crew mates. They had been killed in a way unfamiliar to her, their bodies shriveled husks on the ground. Feeling numb, Robin allowed Crocodile to lead her to one of the rooms full of poker tables. There, leaning uselessly against one of the tables, was Darius.

When the captain of the Hangman Pirates saw her, he roared in wordless rage. His trademark rope was nowhere to be seen, and one of his legs was in the same mummified state as his crew members in the other room.

"Silence." The one word, uttered in complete distain for the man lying helplessly before him was all it took to reduce Darius to a whimper. With a cruel smirk, Crocodile spread his arms, gesturing to the room around him. "What's wrong, scum? Did you not say you were going to be the Pirate King?" Darius whimpered again, and Robin suspected he would have cried had he the tears to do so.

"What do you want?" Robin asked quietly. Crocodile turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Want? I want to know why you led a group of pirates to my casino, Nico Robin."

She was able to meet his gaze, just barely. "I knew that if you caught them, you would kill them to the last man. The local army has a history of holding prisoners indefinitely, and the marines don't have a strong presence here."

"So it was business, then?" he asked, a dangerous smile stretching across his face. "You needed them dead to achieve your goals?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady.

This seemed to please him. Without further conversation, he reached down and grabbed Darius by the forehead. Robin watched as he struggled uselessly against the Warlord's hold, his skin slowly sinking away to nothingness as Crocodile removed all of the water from his body.

Robin was aware of his Devil Fruit, anyone who knew anything of the local political climate did, but watching the Warlord reduce Darius to nothing but a pile of dust, as if he never existed, was unsettling

"There. All dead," Crocodile said cruelly when he was finished.

"Yes, but I sand is notoriously difficult to get out of the carpets." The quip sounded cold, even to her own ears, but it was necessary. The Hangman Pirates were finished, and Robin knew she was how fighting for her life.

"Ha ha ha. With my power, it's no problem at all." To demonstrate his point, Crocodile flicked his wrist, and the pile that just seconds ago had been a living, breathing being formed a miniature cyclone in his hand.

"I see," Robin murmured, feeling distinctly weak in the knees. He was a logia, and with his perfect defense there was no way for her to fight him and win.

Discarding the pile, the Warlord turned and faced her head on. "Come with me, Nico Robin."

Once again Robin allowed herself to be led, this time down a long hallway and into the VIP area. With his free hand, Crocodile opened the door to a massive room, and sat in an overstuffed chair behind a desk. Robin stood, staring at the magnificent banana gators that swam behind him, separated by only a thin sheet of glass.

"So, Nico Robin, I want you to help me," he began after taking a moment to light a cigar. "I hear you can read the poneglyphs."

Stunned, Robin tore her eyes from the gators and stared at the Warlord. The shock must have been clearly written over her face, because he laughed. Taking time to tap some ash off of the end of his cigar, he looked expectantly at her.

"I can," she finally admitted. "I don't see how that can help you."

"Oh, don't play hard to get." His voice was almost a purr as he blew out another ring of smoke. "We both know what's written on those stones."

"…Yes."

"There is a poneglyph on Alabasta. It contains a secret to the weapon Pluton. I want that weapon, Nico Robin."

Despite herself, Robin was intrigued. "Do you know where it is?" she asked.

"No, but it's only a matter of time."

Recognizing the look in his eye, Robin stiffened. "You have a plan, then?" she guessed.

"I do," Crocodile replied smugly. "And you're going to help me. I can give you anything you want. Money. Power. Revenge…" he let the last word hang out tantalizingly.

"I do have a question," Robin said, ignoring his offers, "How did you know it was me?"

The Warlord leaned forward menacingly. "That was simple. I am a powerful man, Nico Robin. I've been keeping an eye on your progress for awhile now. It was only a matter of time until you came to Alabasta. I just had to catch you when you did."

And I made it very easy for you to do so, Robin thought bitterly. "Very well. It does seem like we have a common goal in mind. I do have two conditions."

"I'm listening."

Holding up a finger, Robin looked him in the eye. "One: We act as business partners. Nothing more, nothing less."

Crocodile smirked. "Oh, had some issues with that have we? I assure you; that will be no problem. I like women of a more…refined nature."

Robin ignored the insult and raised a second finger. "Two: Complete and totally anonymity."

The request seemed to throw him off guard for a moment, but he recovered quickly. His smile returned, predatory this time. "Oh? Don't like your name, Nico Robin?"

"It does present some problems. The marines are quite adamant in regards to my capture. If not kept at bay they can get very enthusiastic."

"It would be unfortunate if you were arrested," Crocodile agreed, humoring her. "I have no problems with either of your conditions. Welcome to Baroque Works."

"Baroque Works?" Robin asked.

"My company. I told you I had a plan, and it's already in action. From now on, you'll be known as Miss All Sunday."

Miss All Sunday. It was a bit of a mouthful, but it would do. Robin nodded, and as Crocodile laughed his cruel, heartless laugh she realized that she had been foolish to think that she ever had a chance at starting over, at least in the way she had hoped. Well, it was as they said, out of the frying pan and into the fire. At least she was still looking for a poneglyph.

From behind the glass, one of the banana gators attacked one of its smaller brethren that had swam to close. Blood was drawn, and soon a feeding frenzy was going on behind the seemingly oblivious Warlord, and the smaller gator was torn to pieces.

Robin looked from the banana gators to the Warlord and back again. Suddenly the air seemed bone-dry, and Robin couldn't shake off a feeling of apprehension.

Crocodile eyed her, his smirk pulling the scar that bisected his face taunt. "I don't tolerate failure, Miss All Sunday," he said, eyes dancing as he noticed her discomfort. "I will get my weapon, even if I have to fight through hell for it. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Oh, and call me Mr. 0."

Robin nodded, and with it sealed her pact with one of the most dangerous men in the world.

AN: Hey, I'm alive.

I think someone requested Crocodiles and Robins first meeting a long time ago. Here you go!

Sorry about the long delay. To make a long story short, my computer died on me (the 3rd in 3 months. I think that's a record), so I lost not only all (including 2 chapters for this that just needed editing) of my fanfiction stuff I had worked on, but a project that's was worth a big chunk of my grade.

So pro-tip of the day: back up all your stuff in case of computer failure. It saves on anger and angst.

As always reviews make Sarcasticles a happy camper. But, in all honesty, I'm just glad to have a chapter finished at all XD