All things considered, Nico Robin thought to herself, this wasn't a bad day. The sun was shining after a recent rainstorm, and she had been successful in her shopping—including the acquirement of a book on the sacrificial and burial traditions among various ancient peoples. The only thing she was lacking was a little bit of caffeine. Thus, toward her favorite little coffee shop she strode, spirits bright. A little too bright, maybe.

The barista greeted her with a smile and a nod from his spot at the espresso machine, where he was busily making drinks for the clientele already present. There was no tall, grande, or venti to speak of here. The coffee came in mugs of the café's own, which was the way Robin liked it. She took up her usual spot and dropped her bags next to a comfortable chair by the wall, thinking she might stay for a while and read.

The line wasn't too long; there was a slight rush, but Robin found herself at the counter before long. The barista, whose seemingly handwritten nametag read 'Franky' in a messy scrawl, raised his eyebrows and gave her a grin.

"Howdy! Your usual, I'm guessing?" he asked, large hand poised over the register's buttons. Robin considered.

"Actually, I'm feeling a bit adventurous today. Surprise me," she said, to her own actual surprise. Robin liked to think of herself as a habitual woman, but apparently there was just something about today making her feel spontaneous. It wasn't necessarily a negative thing, maybe. Franky certainly looked bowled over.

"Wow, really? Okay, then, I'll make you my personal favorite drink, the Super Efficient Franky Caffeinator 3!" he beamed. "It's on the house, 'cause I'm sure you'll buy it next time."

Leaving Robin to mull that one over, he got to work immediately. As she watched him prepare her drink, she began to pale a little bit. Her usual was black coffee, occasionally with some milk. The Super Efficient Franky Caffeinator 3, whatever its predecessors may have been, was anything but that. Robin wondered idly if there was a record for most flavorings put into a single coffee, because Franky was probably breaking it as she watched. All the while, he kept up a steady stream of commentary on several different topics. Finally, after what seemed like years (but had only been a few minutes) he cheerfully slid it across the counter to her with a "hope you enjoy!"

Robin carried the mug over to her seat with care, setting it on the small table next to her. Then, once she determined that Franky's attention was elsewhere, she gave it a wary expression otherwise reserved for ticking bombs and wild animals. Over the course of her life, Robin had been steeling herself against various adverse people and situations. This was nothing. She put on her best neutral expression and lifted the mug to her lips for a sip.

"How d'you like it?" Franky called from the counter.

"It's— ah," not black coffee, that's for sure. "It's fine," Robin managed.

And oddly enough, it was fine. A lot of sweetness, yes. A bit overpowering at first. But Franky's favorite drink was a lot like the man himself, judging from what she knew about him. He'd told her previously that he built and sold robots in addition to this job. This job, which he enjoyed because of all the different people he got to see and talk to, with the added bonus of more money for scrap. If there was one thing the guy was, it was honest.

The book was very compelling. Robin read of the sacrificial practices of the Minoans, which satisfied her taste for the macabre nicely. Before she knew it, she'd finished the chapter and her coffee. Standing, she walked past the pastry case to the small bin where the mugs were placed before washing and deposited the empty cup.

"Thank you very much, Franky," she said on her way to leave, her bags gathered. He startled, then relaxed as he realized who was speaking. "I think I'll end up buying another sometime."

"Told ya! Have a super week, uh…" he scratched his head, obviously wondering if he knew her name. He did not. That was okay, because she had never introduced herself.

"Robin," she said, "I'm Robin."

"Robin," he repeated slowly, as one does with a word one does not want to forget. He was serious for a moment. Then he gave her another grin. "Well, catch ya later!"

"Indeed, you will," Robin said, out of a ridiculous desire to have the last word. She turned resolutely and made her way out, her hands slightly shaky from what she told herself was merely sugar and caffeine.

a/n: my first fic in a few years. frobin is just so golden tbh