Gift for habox!

[nickelodeon]

Title: Operation: Before the Tide Comes In
Recipient's name: habox
Rating: G
Pairing(s): Franky/Iceburg
Disclaimer: I DO own One Piece. Oda stole it from me.
Warnings: No warnings.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my lovely beta and I hope you like it! ♥


It was a quick job. Repair the wood on the roof, replace the window and reinforce the cement between the stones. It was an old building and its base was mostly submerged under the water when the tide came in so erosion did its toll with every crashing wave that struck. However, a stray cannonball is difficult to prevent in the Great Age of Piracy and buildings may require fixing sooner than expected sometimes.

The cannonball had slowed down for the most part by the time it had hit so the damage was minimal, yet repair was still necessary. However, because the city was in the gutter, they were short on supplies as well as carpenters willing to work such a small job. No one lived in the building though it housed the best candy shop in the city. Only the storage room was damaged but with the upcoming Aqua Laguna, it was only a matter of time before the finest Mizu Mizu Caramel and Mizu Mizu Taffy would only be a memory.

********

“We’re out of cola! I’m going to town!” the door creaked when it opened and then shut. Then it opened once more only to shut again. And again. And again.

“Franky!” a woman’s voice yelled from the other room, “Put some pants on first!” A pair of trousers ambushed the figure at the door. Franky pulled the pants down from in front of his face and frowned before pulling them on reluctantly. He walked over to a row of desks, stopping at the one closest to the wall.

“I didn’t forget,” he mumbled, more to himself, as he opened up the bottom drawer and pulled out a spray can.

“Pick up some melon for Iceburg too,” Kokoro walked into the room and loomed behind Franky, grinning from ear to ear. She was not particularly happy about anything that day, her face just looked that way. Despite several warnings of her face freezing that way if she made it too many times, she ignored them until it eventually happened. “He said we were out.”

“Bakaburg can pick up his own melon,” Franky said, bringing the spray can over to the door and spraying each of the hinges. The door swung open and closed a couple of times before Franky nodded and returned the can to where it belonged.

There was a loud rumble and the house suddenly shook. Franky ran to the window to see what was going on out back only to see Iceburg and Tom making their way back to the house. Kokoro leaned out the window beside Franky.

“What happened, you two?!” she demanded, looking shocked but her grin never fading. Tom laughed out loud and gave Iceburg a firm rap on the back.

“The wheel wasn’t aligned properly and the train tipped suddenly!” he chuckled. “Nearly crushed Iceburg!”

Franky pushed past Kokoro as she gasped. Iceburg didn’t look nearly as amused as Tom did, his face contorted into a disgruntled frown. Yokozuna held up what looked like an icepack and only then did Franky notice that Iceburg’s leg was bleeding. It soaked through his jeans and despite Yokozuna’s continued offer of ice, Iceburg kept refusing it.

“Maybe you should take it, Bakaburg,” Franky said, looking down at Iceburg’s leg. Besides that one small injury, he seemed all right. “Don’t blame Yokozuna for your own stupid mistake!”

Iceburg’s eyes flared and he leapt toward Franky.

“My stupid mistake?!” he yelled, grabbing Franky’s amazing flower print shirt. “Nma! Who was the one who was in charge of the left wheel?!”

Franky thought for a moment before deciding that he’d be better off leaving that question unanswered. Instead, he returned Iceburg’s frown and grabbed his sweaty shirt in retaliation.

“Was your Battle Franky more important than making sure the seatrain didn’t fall apart?!” Iceburg continued, pulling Franky in closer. Iceburg always had to take it upon himself to lecture him. Tom laughed. Kokoro looked slightly less happy but, on the outside, appeared to still be feeling fine. Yokozuna tried to break them up but there is only so much a frog that looks like a Sumo Wrestler can do.

Franky knew he was wrong but he wasn’t about to admit that to Iceburg. Not only would he have to admit to being wrong but he’d also have to admit that Iceburg was right and maybe even apologize to him. He glared into Iceburg’s eyes, knowing full well that Iceburg was expecting something. A flinch or a word or a sentence. Anything, really. Franky found himself getting increasingly uncomfortable with such decreased space between them.

“Let go of me!” he tried prying Iceburg’s hands from his shirt. As strong as Franky’s hands were, Iceburg could match that strength back at him so there was little movement. He lifted his leg up to use as leverage against Iceburg’s body, pushing hard against his hip.

Iceburg let out a loud yell and stumbled backwards, clutching his leg. Franky cursed his selective memory but secretly patted it on the back. He hadn’t meant to kick Iceburg in his injured leg but it had succeeded in freeing him for the moment. Maybe if Iceburg weren’t the one attacking him, he’d feel worse.

Just before mortal combat was about to begin, there was a knock at the freshly lubricated door. Franky and Iceburg froze as Tom went to go and see who it was. Kokoro sighed at the two boys and lectured them with a stare. She knew they weren’t going to stop anytime soon and she wasn’t about to try and stop them. She exited toward the kitchen.

“Nma! You kicked me there on purpose,” Iceburg muttered, bunching his pant leg up to scan the damage. His injury was nothing more than a large scratch along his calf so Franky refused to feel too guilty about it. He tore his eyes away for a moment and didn’t reply. He might have felt bad if Iceburg hadn’t been a jerk.

He glanced at Iceburg’s leg again. The blood was already there so that stupid Bakaburg couldn’t blame him for doing it. He had to keep reassuring himself of that. Even though he was the one that didn’t finish aligning the wheel. But that was beside the point. What was that idiot doing under the wheel anyway? And why did the wheel make him bleed? Stupid idiot. Stupid, dumb, lame Bakaburg.

Franky was lost in thought for a minute and he imagined his name being called. It was a familiar voice but he couldn’t figure out why he was thinking about someone calling out for him. He heard the voice in his head again and clearly recognized it as Iceburg. That idiot wasn’t about to make Franky feel bad in his mind-

“EARTH TO BAKANKY!!” Franky felt something hit him on the top of the head and looked up to see Iceburg’s fist. He snapped back into reality at that point. “NMA!”

“Don’t hit me!” Franky yelled, connecting his fist with Iceburg’s shoulder. Once again, the outside world had fabulous timing and prevented an all-out Brawl by having Tom walk back in.

“Who was that, Tom-san?” Iceburg asked almost instantly, forgetting the fact that Franky got the last hit on him.

“How would you boys like to make a little extra money?” he asked, holding up a piece of paper that looked like a post-it note in his hand. He pinched it between his webbed fingers and grinned.

“What about the seatrain?” Iceburg asked. “What if it’s almost done?”

Tom glanced out the window at the collapsed seatrain. “It’s not going anywhere.” He replied. “We haven’t been making as many ships because we’ve been putting all our all into making this train with a DON.”

“Are you saying we’re running out of money, Tom-san?” Franky asked, standing up quickly.

“Nma! Are you doubting Tom-san?!” Iceburg yelled, ready to jump on Franky. He was always quick to defend Tom who only laughed again at Franky and Iceburg’s response while shaking his head.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Bakaburg!” Franky yelled, preparing himself for the worst case scenario where Iceburg fetches the sledgehammer. He was ready for him this time.

Kokoro popped her monstrously grinning face into the room. “If you’re going to fight, do it outside!” she pleaded. “You just replaced the kitchen chairs!”

Iceburg was the first to back off. “Nma,” he grumbled.

********

“We’re already getting a late start but it’s just a quick repair job,” Iceburg explained, toting the front end of a long ladder as Franky brought up the rear. “A couple of hours of work before high-tide comes in.”

“Why before high tide?” Franky asked. He was present during the explanation of the job but was too occupied in designing his new Battle Franky to know all the details.

They both reached the bottom of the building they were to repair and set the ladder down at the base. Barnacles clung to the bricks, seaweed draped itself on the rocks and the distinct low-tide scent wafted in the air. Iceburg sighed and pointed up the building.

“Nma. The damage is on the back of the building,” he explained, pointing to the cannonball hole toward the top. “This is the only place to put the ladder to fix it. Do I have to explain the tides to you or do you get it?”

Iceburg started up the ladder with Franky close behind. The base of the building usually found itself underwater and if the tide came in, it would wash the ladder away. Franky gave the ladder a quick shake. “I get it!”

“Then act like it,” Iceburg said as he climbed higher. Now Franky had to climb with Iceburg’s slow-climbing backside in his face.

“This isn’t a ship,” Franky looked up at the building to survey the job but Iceburg climbed in front of his view. Franky climbed up a few steps but Iceburg’s ass seemed to follow where Franky’s eyes wanted to look. “Climb faster!” he yelled. “All I can see is your ass!” Iceburg didn’t respond. Did he think he was too cool to answer? “I’m going to call you Assburg! At least that rhymes!”

That got his attention.

“NMA!” he yelled, turning around so quickly, he nearly tipped the ladder over. He was just about to yell at Franky when he saw a small child standing at the bottom of the ladder, looking up at them through orange-colored goggles. It took Iceburg only a half a second to quickly reevaluate his choice of words to not reflect a long string of swearwords.

“Are you fixing the candy store?” he asked, a sparkle in his wide eyes. Franky hopped off the ladder and landed on the ground.

“Better believe it, kid!” he said, beaming. Upon closer inspection, Franky realized that the child was in desperate need of a tissue and that his string of snot must have measured at least three inches long.

“Can I help?!” he asked, wiping his nose with his sleeve. Iceburg climbed down the ladder as well and hung on the lowest step.

“Nma,” he said, shaking his head and awkwardly patting the kid on his blond head. “This is a dangerous job. You’re not wearing the right kind of shoes…”

The child looked down at his sandals and then looked at Iceburg’s high-class Italian boots. Then, for good measure, his eyes trailed over toward Franky’s feet to examine his footwear. He removed his goggles to get a closer look and then looked up at Franky.

“You’re not even wearing shoes!” he said to Franky.

“Shoes are not super!” Franky laughed before Iceburg threw his hand over Franky’s mouth.

“What if I went home and changed my shoes?” the child asked. “Then could I help?” Iceburg didn’t know how to respond to that so he just nodded.

“Yeah,” Iceburg said, still nodding. “Put on some closed-toe shoes.” The kid turned and started running.

“I’ll be right back!” he said. At the sound of those words, Iceburg jumped.

“No wait!” he said. He paused for a long second and looked at the child. “We’re going to need a lot of nails. Bring exactly one-thousand nails.”

The little blond boy nodded and, once again, wiped the mucus that dripped freely from his nose. “That’ll be easy!” he said, turning to go again. “My dad owns a carpentry store!”

Franky struggled to free his mouth from Iceburg’s hand but Iceburg, distracted, just held it on tighter. “What about screws?”

“Yup!”

“Paint?”

“Uh-huh?”

Iceburg frowned. “Nma,” he said. “What about rope?”

The child stalled for a moment, thinking hard. After going over the entire layout of his father’s store including the backroom and in the glass shelf behind the counter, he came to the conclusion that this would be a difficult task.

“We don’t have that,” he said, his eyebrows furrowed with disappointment or worry. His lips pouted and his nose continued to drip like a faucet. Iceburg nodded. Franky finally got free and pushed Iceburg’s hand off his mouth. Iceburg assured the child that one-thousand feet of rope were needed and that they couldn’t continue without it. With his new mission in mind, the child was off and the two members of Tom’s Workers were able to continue.

“What was with that, Bakaburg?!” Franky demanded. His lips felt dry and when he licked them, he could taste Iceburg’s dirty and sweaty hand on his tongue.

“Nma,” said Iceburg, heading back to the ladder ahead of Franky, avoiding any eye contact. “I was trying to get rid of him.”

“I don’t care about that stupid kid!” Franky flailed both of his arms and got into a stance that welcomed a fight from Iceburg. Instead, Iceburg only groaned and started climbing up the ladder.

“We already wasted too much time with that kid,” he said passively. He stuck one hand out. “Hand me my hammer.”

Franky scoffed at Iceburg’s request, grabbing the hammer and slamming it down firmly in the opposite hand. He looked up the ladder as Iceburg scaled the rest of it. Stupid stick-in-the-mud Bakaburg was already at the top of the ladder and doing the job by himself. Franky picked up a few pieces of debris and started stacking them strategically at the bottom.

It wasn’t until Franky had constructed himself a makeshift Battle Franky out of rocks that Iceburg turned and noticed.

“If you’re not going to do anything, go home!” he yelled, climbing down the ladder. The Battle Franky offended him so much that its mere existence needed to be destroyed. “What is this?!”

Franky pushed a rock around, stood in front of it and posed.

“It’s incomplete but it is one of the non-seaworthy Battle Frankies!” Franky announced. He stuck a stick in between a crack in two rocks and a shot fired into the ocean, making a big splash. “SUPER!!”

“…how did-” Iceburg stuttered as the Battle Franky lit up and flashed.

“Pretty super, eh Ahoburg?” Franky struck a few more obscene poses.

“NMA!!” Iceburg grabbed Franky’s shirt and slammed him against the Battle Franky. Franky leaned backwards and had to hold himself up with both arms. “You’re going to hurt someone close-”

In response, Franky grabbed Iceburg’s shirt back. It wasn’t as loosely fit as his own so he had to pinch harder to grasp the fabric against Iceburg’s skin. His fingers stumbled and caused him to brush his fingers underneath the shirt.

“I’ve heard it all before, Bakaburg!” Franky said, readjusting his grip and knotting his fists in the material of the shirt. “I don’t need to listen to stuck-up, grumpy not super idiots-”

Perhaps he had wanted to do it all along but the moment Iceburg’s fist connected with Franky’s cheek, there was a satisfying clapping noise. It was not, by any means, the first time either of them had struck each other but even if Franky denied it, Iceburg was sure that that was the hardest he had hit him.

Franky reeled backwards and brought his hand to his face instinctively. The silence was only interrupted by Franky’s grunts as he spit into his hand.

“I’m bleeding!” he gasped, looking at his hand before wiping it on his shirt. He rubbed the side of his jaw and then leapt at Iceburg, knocking him off his feet and landing on top of him. Iceburg cringed and his focus was distracted to his leg.

“Sorry,” Franky said with little thought, winding up and punching Iceburg straight on in the forehead. The punch knocked his white bandana loose so when Iceburg forced himself to sit off, it fell off and his hair fell in front of his face. He put both hands on Franky’s shoulders, close to his neck.

Just as Franky was sure Iceburg was going to headbutt him or eat his face off, Iceburg’s eyes trailed to look past Franky’s face. His right grip loosened and he pushed the hair out of his eyes. Franky wondered to himself why Iceburg had stopped so suddenly but he wasn’t about to remind Iceburg that he had a duty to fulfill in punching him.

“The tide’s coming in,” he said, his eyes drifting back to Franky. The water had crept its way up and was only about ten feet from the two of them. “We need to finish the job and clean up.”

“Finish the job?!” Franky looked at the water and estimated they’d have about twenty minutes to complete their task, clean up and get out of the area. At most. “Did you get brain damage when that wheel fell on you too?

Iceburg was stubborn. “We’ll just have to do it quickly,” he said, adamantly. He stood up and began looking around. “Where’s my hammer?”

“You are so not super, Bakaburg!” Franky groaned, absently scanning for the hammer as well. His eyes stopped on the small hammer at the bottom of the ladder and he shifted toward it.

“Nma,” Iceburg let out a sigh. “Don’t think you’re going to be sharing the job money with me when I’m done.” He followed the trail from Franky’s eyes that led to the elusive hammer.

There was a scramble, few trips, various curse words that will not be repeated as the two workers dove for the hammer. Franky faked left and made a grab for the hammer but Iceburg was not fooled and jumped to the right and tackled Franky by latching around his waist and bringing him down.

They slid across the ground and Franky felt the water on his legs as it continued to rise slowly. It was clammy against his warm skin in contrast to Iceburg’s face against his stomach. His not-super, unmanly beard scratched him lightly and he hit Iceburg on the top of his head. Iceburg pushed himself up.

“I’m not giving it to you,” Franky smirked and looked away. Iceburg shoved his hand in Franky’s face angrily.

“Nma! Get that smirk off your face!!” he yelled, smothering him with his hand. This was the second time Franky had Iceburg’s hand in his face and it didn’t work for him the first time, it wasn’t about to happen again so he bit down. Iceburg flailed and his knee connected nicely with Franky’s sea-pantied crotch.

“OW!” Franky yelled, sitting up abruptly and crashing his face into Iceburg’s. Iceburg’s yelling had suddenly stopped and Franky felt the weight on top of him suddenly get heavier. Mourning his below-the-belt injury, Franky waited a moment. “Bakaburg?”

There was no answer.

“Hey!” Franky yelled, his eyes widening. “As much as you like it, get off me!” There was still no response and Franky noticed that Iceburg’s eyes were closed. It wasn’t hard to crawl out from underneath but Iceburg was not about to move and the water was already slowly under his legs.

Franky resented Iceburg for putting him in this sort of position.

“You can drown for all I care,” Franky said, sitting down on his makeshift Battle Franky. “I’m not carrying you.”

The water was now up to Iceburg’s waist and Franky could see the tips of Iceburg’s un-super boots sticking out of the surface. Franky’s arms were crossed.

“What would Tom-san do?” Franky asked himself. It was sort of a stupid question to ask because the answer was obvious. “What would Tom-san do if he were me?”

Franky deliberated on that decision for approximately twelve seconds before standing up and dragging Iceburg away from the water. Watching the idiot die was not how Franky had planned on spending the end of his day. At least he took solace in knowing that Iceburg need(ed) him to save him. “WAKE UP AHOBURG!!”

Iceburg had chosen a really bad time to be a really heavy sleeper and the water was not about to turn around and head back. Franky knew the water would reach all the way to the building so continuously dragging Iceburg to safety was not an option. He also really wanted to go home.

Franky gave Iceburg a quick prod with his toe and Iceburg rolled over and smiled with a look of delusion to his face. Franky jumped back and glared at Iceburg, a tint of pink flushing his face.

“Creepy Bakaburg,” he said. He looked back down at the water and sighed loudly. “You owe me.”

Franky bent over and with some tricky maneuvering, he managed to hoist Iceburg onto his back. It’s a good thing Franky had been growing so much over the years or the feat would have been much more challenging. Franky tucked his arms under Iceburg’s legs and lifted him up. Iceburg’s head lazily draped itself over Franky’s left shoulder and Franky, for the second time today, had to feel Iceburg’s beard scratch him.

He frowned and started walking back to Tom’s house, cursing Iceburg the whole way home. It was somewhere in between Dock Three and Dock Two that Iceburg’s eyelids fluttered open and he noticed the position he was in.

Franky? Carrying him?

It was about the time where Iceburg should have told Franky that he was awake. He should have yelled at him for abandoning the job for now. He should have hit him on the head for knocking him out. He should have demanded they go back and get all the tools they left behind.

He remained still, however. He’d take advantage of Bakanky for now.