They don't talk about it. The moment Stone returns to the lab with a fresh latte, Robotnik goes on about his day and work as if nothing ever happened. Bring me this, Stone. Deal with the messages from the pentagoons Stone. He reels off their usual script without a hitch, previous events seemingly deleted from his mind.
Someone else would probably have been unsettled over the ease which with Robotnik pretends. Maybe even angry, at being rejected and then treated with contempt. Stone? Stone is simply relieved. Had Robotnik decided to rub it in, keep twisting the knife to remind him of his wrongdoings, that would have been much worse.
But relief or not, not even Stone can deny the sharp edges of crushed hopes rattling around in his chest. Those take longer to vanish; They shift and move with him, poking him uncomfortably at seemingly random times. When Robotnik squints his eyes against the sunlight but no longer utters a single word of complaint, for example. Or when Stone cleans out the lab two days after the incident and finds evidences for his birthday present which had backfired so badly. Poke, poke, poke.
It happens like this: He is in the middle of sorting out the doctor's desk superficially – stacking blueprints neatly, refilling the small cup with pens, dusting off the keyboard – when he steps on something which crinkles quietly under his weight. When he backs away and looks down, there is a piece of black paper right there on the ground. He bends to pick it up mechanically – ignoring the by now familiar stab of pain in his chest – and makes to flick it into the trash can when he notices that the can is empty. That gives him pause; the trashcan is devoid of box and sunglasses and wrapping. Stone hasn't been in here to empty it since the 17th, and he finds himself wondering if Robotnik actually hated the glasses so much that he went and brought out the trash himself; something which he never does, usually.
Another poke in the general area of his heart, sharper this time. Stone breathes through it, and continues cleaning. No sense dwelling on it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Days pass, then weeks. Time might not heal all wounds, Stone knows that from experience, but the hits he took in January are nothing graphic. The pain dulls, frayed nerves settle again, and bruised feelings and ego recover. A few weeks later, he and the doctor have found their rhythm around each other again, working in tandem as easily as if they have been made for it. Robotnik explodes, Stone soothes. The doctor rushes forward headlong, his agent follows dutifully behind. Push and pull.
Neither of them talks about anything remotely private at all. Neither of them is stupid enough to mentions birthdays of all things. And stone makes sure that the only things he hands the doctor are work related items or lattes.
The peace between them, once precarious, stabilizes slowly.
But neither of them is able to forget.
The first stumble comes due to such a small thing, many would have considered it laughable. It is during Stone's lunchbreak. Different from usual, it is such a slow day that he actually has the time to sit down to eat while browsing mindlessly on his holo-tablet, clicking idly through interesting news articles.
Just when he is on his last few bites, dusting off his hands to free them from lingering crumbs, a message pops up in the corner of the holo-screen, alerting him to a new mail. Stone opens it with a swipe, barely paying attention – and then almost chokes on his last bite when the picture of uncomfortably familiar sunglasses pops up in front of him.
Leave feedback for your purchase now.
This got be a joke, Stone thinks, still coughing, and shakes his head at the screen. Despite himself, he scoots closer again to read the message, hesitating over the link which will take him to the feedback site. He likes to give praise where praise is due, and knows from personal experience how much meaning positive feedback can have. But while he liked the glasses and the service – the recipient of the gift hadn't. Would that still be honest feedback if he typed out a positive review now?
The half minute where he dithers over what to do is already enough to be caught off-guard. While Stone still weighs pros and cons, Robotnik comes barging into the kitchen with his usual flair, presence immediately taking up the space, and starts talking without preamble, "Stone, where did you put my…"
Whatever the doctor had been about to say does not so much as trail off, he just stops talking as abruptly as a record scratching to a grinding stop. Instinctively knowing what caused the icy silence in his back, Stone scrambles to close the holoscreen and shoves the holo-tablet away. Heart in his throat, he turns around and puts on a smile he does not feel, hoping beyond hope the doctor will let this slide for once. "Ah, sorry, what are you looking for, doc-…?"
Of course, mercy is beyond Robotnik's scope, and Stone knows he will not get any from the man once he sets sight on his boss and sees his scowl. He only has time to bite back a defeated sigh and steel himself before the doctor is already striding across the room and descending onto the holo-tablet. With a single swipe, he has reopened the website Stone had so hastily closed, and turns the picture of the black sunglasses towards his agent. "You're still looking at those? What, were you looking to try… again…"
Already having geared up to sit through another taking-down, Stone blinks and slowly relaxes when Robotnik suddenly trails off, staring at the website. Not that he is particularly keen on getting yelled at, but the sudden silence is a bit concerning. Hesitantly, he tries, "Doctor?"
"Hm." Robotnik's gaze drags slowly away from the luminescent screen over to his agent, but his fingers keep tapping the edge of the pictured damned sunglasses while he asks, voice strangely flat, "Do I really pay you so much that you can go throw money at things like this?"
The question is...odd, to say the least; there is no way Robotnik has forgotten that he pays Stone a rather average salary. So yes, the sunglasses had been a bit out of his usual price range but not obscenely so. Stone cannot fathom what the doctor wants to hear. Another apology for the birthday present? Something that gives him an excuse to cut some of Stone's pay? Grasping for words which are true but might not draw the doctor's anger again, Stone settles on, "You pay me enough that I can spend money on things which seem worth it."
Yet again it seems to be the wrong thing to say. It always seems to be the wrong thing, when Stone talks about this topic. Robotnik's face twists, a sneer pulling at his lips, and he slams down the tablet hard enough that any other device would have cracked. Not his, tech, though. That only makes a sound as loud as a gunshot; not even that is loud enough to drown out the doctor's scorn "Worth it," he draws the words out as if tasting them, ridiculing them in the process. "Worth it for what?"
What is he supposed to say? He already told him; he already got told off for it. Feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden, Stone shakes his head, sagging in vis chair. He can hear himself how monotone his voice sounds when he repeats the truth, "I thought you might like them."
The snarl which echoes in the kitchen sounds inhuman. Between one blink and the next, Robotnik is across the room and right in Stone's personal space. One gloved hand closes around the agent's jaw like a vice, and with a strength nobody would expect from the doctor's wiry frame, he has ripped his assistant out of the chair and slammed him backwards against the kitchen counter.
The pain rippling up from Stone's back is irrelevant. What really knocks the breath out of him is the doctor's face right in front of his own, twisted with fury and derision. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Robotnik spits the word directly into the other's face. "One who believes that you had no ulterior motive for this? That thought you might like them is supposed to be all?
Paradoxically, that is when something rebellious rears its head inside Stone's chest; the sharp shards rattling about inside of his rib cage poke poke poke and drive him forward, push him to meet Robotnik's burning gaze with a steely one of vis own, jaw set and voice firm and even. "With all due respect, doctor - yes, that is all."
In a startled heartbeat, Stone asks himself what am I doing - he knows better than to provoke an already raging Ivo Robotnik. He expects an explosion then, an outburst of truly epic extent. Maybe even the very real threat of getting fired for his impertinence.
What he doesn't expect is for the brimming, jittery energy radiating off Robotnik to stop and the entire man to freeze. Only the doctor's eyes move still, gaze jumping all over Stone's face, searching for... something. Stone has no idea what it might be, but he lets Robotnik look his fill, never glancing away, careful to keep his expression as open as he possibly can.
silence settles between them, crackling with tension while they simply stare at each other, each one waiting for the other to make the first move.
As so often, it is Robotnik who moves first. He drops his grip on Stone and backs away so quickly as if he has been burned. He is breathing heavily, eyes still wild and hand trembling almost imperceptibly when he runs it through his messy hair, but he is not shouting. He is not exploding, and Stone can only wonder why?
"Back to work, barnacle," Robotnik grates out through clenched teeth, already turning away. "And stay out of my sight for the rest of the day."
Stone opens his mouth, but never gets to say anything, affirmative or otherwise, before the genius has already stormed out of the kitchen much the same dramatic way which he had entered.
Leaving behind his assistant, wondering what the hell had just happened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The incident in the kitchen becomes another of those Things They Do Not Talk about. Sarcastically, Stone thinks there should be a list of those at this point. Less sarcastically does he very carefully screen his own words before accidentally starting another fight. Anything which could somehow be related to private lives, celebrations and especially birthdays and gifts is basically scratched from his vocabulary.
It helps. Whatever underlying tension had still lingered between them eases slowly, and a few weeks in, nobody would have noticed that anything had happened between them at all. Back to zero; back into safer, professional territories.
When Status Quo is upstaged again one bright day in April, Stone is entirely innocent. If anyone had asked who was responsible for it, he would have blamed Walters without hesitation.
They are back on the government's compound today, drawn here by another mandatory meeting. Something about budget planning and fundings, Robotnik had grumbled while he had thrown on his coat and ushered Stone out of the lab, have to make sure they don't cut us any shorter.
Stone had discreetly stashed a thermos full of latte in his briefcase before they left, and assured the doctor that he would not have to pay a single lick of attention during the meeting because Stone would take the notes for him, but that is all just band aids over a bleeding wound. It changes nothing about the fact that Robotnik loses hours where he could work, and on things he is actually likes. It doesn't stop the imbeciles at the compound from calling the doctor to attention again and again when it becomes clear his mind is drifting.
You don't want his attention in this state, Stone wants to tell them, you couldn't deal with what his attention entails if you keep bothering him.
But he doesn't say. It is not his place... and maybe, just maybe, there is a little vindictive part of him which wants to see the doctor tear into the major who keeps calling out for him to listen. See if the idiot likes the doctor listening when the genius reduced him to terrified screaming.
Somehow, miraculously, they make it through the meeting without a disaster, even without any louder or violent outburst. Stone can tell it has been a close call in the way Robotnik veritably launches to his feet as soon as the meeting draws to a close and strides out of the room at such a speed even Stone is left scrambling to keep up. Gathering up his notes and the thermos and stuffing it all into a briefcase, Stone hurries after his boss without so much as a glance back at the other attendees.
He catches up to Robotnik at the end of the hallway, if only because the genius has thankfully stopped to pace circles and rant aloud to vent out his anger. He is right in the middle of it when Stone skids to a stop next to him, snapping out "... to think I could have finished the flight pod today if not for this farce of a kindergarten requesting my presence just to see me jump when they call! If I didn't need the fundings - those baboons do not even have the brain capacity to imagine what I would do to them as payback for all the times they made me waste my time-..."
He is really going off today, Stone thinks with a slight grimace. Possibly due to the fact that the doctor had been excited over a breakthrough in the flight pod's development only the night before, declaring confidently that with this he would be able to finish the machine in mere hours now.
Reminding him of the mandatory meeting then had not been fun, that much is for certain.
Reasoning and soothing seem to be out of the question with how terrible Robotnik's mood is at this point, so Stone settles for Option C: Distraction. "I'm very sorry for interrupting, doctor, but - does that mean you found a way around the problem with the propulsion? The last thing I remember you telling me was how the acceleration was too high and would throw the pod off-balance."
It works like a charm; Robotnik stops mid-step, head whipping around to blink at Stone for a beat as if he had not even noticed him up until now. Then recognition sets in and he pulls a face, wrinkling his nose while he rounds on his assistant completely and starts gesturing about, "I told you I did - where you even listening to me yesterday when I explained my breakthrough to you, Stone?!"
Yesterday - more like this morning, since the doctor, as so often had pulled an all-nighter, and his loyal assistant had done the same. Stone does not let his fond exasperation show in his face (at least he hopes so) and feigns a sheepish shrug. "I was, but to be quite honest, the solution you mentioned went a little over my head...?"
"Oh for-..." Robotnik sighs deeply and massages the bridge of his nose. "There you are, getting the incredible chance of listening to me explaining my work to you, and then it goes over your head. Really, Stone. Sometimes I think I only keep you around for your lattes."
"I thought that's a given, doctor," Stone dares to point out mildly, allowing a smile to slip through. This, at least, had been a running joke between them ever since he had started his work for the genius. Coffee as job security. Robotnik found it hilarious, even if he had never said as much.
Even now, the doctor's mustache twitches, betraying the smile he tries to hold back. Rolling his eyes, he clacks his tongue. "Well, at least you're aware of it. Good."
Stone's smile only grows. Eyerolls and banter and hidden smiles are already miles away from the impending -explosion they had been facing a minute ago. he doesn't mind having his intelligence insulted for this, especially not if it means he gets to hear the doctor talk about his fascinating projects again. Knowing he will not be rejected on this but still threading lightly, he clears his throat. "I'm very sorry for missing the important parts of the explanation. Maybe if you could summarize it for me...?"
"Summarize - you can't summarize greatness, Stone, have I taught you nothing in that past year - just. Ugh. Just use your limited capabilities to the fullest and try to keep up, I will even use lay-man terms for your sake this time. And don't interrupt me!"
"Of course not, doctor. Thank you for your generosity." Inclining his head in a nod, Stone uses the motion to hide his grin. People always seem to think that it is difficult to work with Robotnik, but while it may be complicated and highly sensitive work sometimes, there are some easy parts of it. Distracting the doctor is one of those parts; Robotnik likes to talk about his projects, so getting him to talk and improving his mood with it is possibly the easiest and best part of Stone's job.
And perhaps Robotnik even knows he is being goaded into this, since his gaze is a little too knowing while he grumbles and waves Stone's thanks off before launching into his explanation again. He starts out slow, description of his work interspersed with insults on Stone's expense at first, but soon enough, any annoyance is lost when Robotnik becomes absorbed in the topic once more. He talks fast and excited, hands gesturing, shoulders loosening while he relaxes. Any promises of using layman terms are forgotten quickly, but it's alright; despite what he had claimed, Stone can follow the explanation easily, especially since he is hearing it for the second time, and he does so enthusiastically. He is hanging onto every word from the doctor, soaking up the knowledge he is being handed on a silver platter greedily and making mental notes on points where he wants to ask further questions later. the doctor's long rants on current projects and how he had come to his conclusions are always incredibly fascinating, but there is an added layer to it when it is a project the doctor truly loves. The flying pod is such a project. Now while Robotnik talks, sketching details into the air with his finger to explain a particularly tricky part of the machine's jets which would allow even faster flight, he is veritably burning with passion; a wildfire of genius and true enthusiasm barely contained in one human body. It nearly blinds Stone while he follows every single sentence as closely as he can.
It really is the only excuse he has for how taken by surprise he is when someone suddenly claps him onto the shoulder hard, and a cheerful voice right next to him announces, "Agent Stone! Just the man I've been looking for!"
Caught off-guard as he is, Stone stumbles half a step forward before he catches himself and instinct sets in. His heartrate spikes, adrenaline flooding his body. He moves on sheer reflex, muscles drawing tight in preparation to defend, fight, attack -
But just as his arm is about to snap up, a hand settles around his wrist like a vice. A gloved hand. It is the familiar texture of cloth and metal, keys embedded into padding, which somehow pierce through the primal instincts which have taken over his mind. All of a sudden, the rush in Stone's head stops and his body stills, although his heart keeps hammering at rapid pace thanks to the adrenaline.
"Brilliant idea, Commander," Robotnik's voice is cold and cruel derision given form when he speaks up, His grip around Stone's wrist never wavering while he narrows his eyes at the newcomer, "to sneak up on a trained agent."
Commander? Walters, Stone realizes with a strange mixture of angry annoyance and dizzying relief. God, he had almost hit the commander out of instinct. That would have not helped in securing them more funds and support in the future, that much is clear. Luckily Robotnik had been more aware of their surroundings than he had been. His own mistake, surely, for getting so caught up in the doctor's explanations. He still can't help but glower at the elderly man when he turns around to face him, heart still in his throat and body buzzing with unreleased energy, but hopefully it will be interpreted as shock instead of real anger.
At least Walters had the decency to look a little sheepish while he clears his throat, hand hovering awkwardly for a beat when he pulls it off Stone's shoulder before dropping it entirely. "Excuse me, Agent Stone, I did not mean to startle you like that."
"It's alright, sir," Stone pastes on a pleasant smile while he draws himself up straight; his wrist is released and he can slip his hands behind his back, fold them tightly to hide the tremble of adrenaline and shock in them. "What can I help you with?"
"Oh, relax, agent, this is not about work-…" Walters waves his formalities off with a chuckle while his other hand dips into his breast pocket, unearthing a piece of paper from it. His smile, similarly to Stone's, does not quite reach his eyes while he hands the slip of paper over. "Since I heard you would be on the premises today, I thought I might as well give this to you in person."
A little perplexed but hopefully hiding it well, Stone accepts the presented item with delicate fingers and unfolds it. It's a card, simple white with a careful cursive on it spelling out Happy Birthday and Congratulations. No text, no further note
Stone read the card without blinking twice, but feels his eyebrows rise when he comes to the coupon slipped inside of it. "… Olive Garden, sir?"
"A personal favorite of mine," Walters says it as if it's some sort of achievement. "I can only recommend you try it out."
You can't be serious. Barely catching an eyeroll, Stone makes sure to keep his smile in place. "I… will. Thank you, sir."
"You're very welcome, agent. Consider this also a gift for work very well done," Walters' eyes dart over Stone's shoulder at this point, towards Robotnik. something like a sympathetic look briefly flickers over his features when he directs his attention back to Stone.
Usually, the not very subtle hint at how terribly difficult it must be to work for Doctor Robotnik would have raised Stone's hackles, but right now, he is too distracted to really pay it attention, still mostly focused on the card itself… and Robotnik's presence in his back, looming over his shoulder. Stone is extremely aware that the doctor has to something to say, and he wants Walters gone for it.
Forcing his smile to widen, Stone looks back up at the Commander. "Thank you, sir, that is very generous of you. You didn't have to."
Walters takes the bait of platitudes immediately and waves his thanks off with a truly grandfatherly smile. "Ah, don't mention it, Agent. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day. Go a little easy on him today, Ivo."
The last part is nearly too much; Stone can feel Robotnik go utterly, dangerously silent behind him at the direct order and the mention of his first name. Damn it, does this man have any self-preservation instincts? Scrambling to do damage control, Stone clears his throat quietly drawing the Commander's attention again before he can accidentally light the doctor's fuse. "Ah, Commander, I'm very sorry to cut this short, but the doctor and I were leaving right now..."
"Of course, of course! I wouldn't want to keep you." Walters reaches out - carefully this time - and pats Stone's shoulder one last time, before nodding at both men in turn. "Doctor; Agent."
Stone manages a stiff goodbye and is not surprised to hear no single peep from Robotnik. He waits, impatiently, until Commander Walters is finally gone.
The Commander has barely vanished behind the next corner when Robotnik makes his move. Quick as a snake, the doctor's hand darts over Stone's shoulder and plucks card out of the easily yielding grip. When Stone glances over, Robotnik is holding the piece of paper against the light as if checking them for hidden messages; once he catches his assistant looking, the doctor lowers his hand, and meets his gaze with a pinched expression. "You didn't say anything."
Should he have, Stone wonders. Would it even have interested the doctor? He certainly seemed not interested in birthdays and celebrations when it came to his own special day. But asking seems like a surefire way to remind Robotnik of the fiasco which Stone's birthday present for him had been, so the agent pushes that thought away immediately and instead answers settles on: "I actually forgot,"
There is something like a disbelieving little sound from the doctor, but no more. Not really knowing what else to do, Stone turns over the coupon, Robotnik has left him with to inspect it while he thinks. His answer is a half-truth; he had forgotten which day it is, yes - it is always a little difficult to keep track of weekdays when you work the same job seven days a week - but he had known that his birthday is either today or tomorrow. Not that it really mattered, but... seeing it now in front of him, realizing that he had missed it, makes him feel a little weird.
"You're going to take that a free day now, aren't you?" Robotnik interrupts his musings, making Stone look up with a blink. "Pffft. Of all the times, of course it has to be now."
"I-… a what?"
"A free day, sycophant," when no recognition is forthcoming, Robotnik makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat and slaps Stone over the head with the card and a good amount of knuckles to really make it sting a little. "Free day. As in not working. Siesta."
"I know what – I got that," Stone assures him, instinctively rubbing the back of his head even though it hadn't really hurt. "But why would I?"
That seems to give Robotnik pause, one eyebrow twitching up before his eyes narrow. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what, doctor?"
"As my assistant, you, you clueless little barnacle, are allowed to take free days on birthdays or Christmas big social family gatherings or what other stupid things those pentagoons care about so much. Very likely a ploy to give my long-suffering henchmen some time away from me. Hence why Walters thought it necessary to remind me not to be too harsh on you today. Probably thought I'm holding the birthday boy hostage or something."
Well, that's… not exactly a revelation, but certainly a surprise. Over a year of work for the doctor, and nobody had ever really thought to inform him of such a thing? Communication is key, and all that, Stone thinks, sarcasm biting even inside his head.
Next to him, Robotnik snorts loudly, possibly at the perplexed expression Stone is now wearing. "God, did you even read your work contract before you started here? Really now, Stone."
"I only cared about working for you," Stone answers without thinking. "I didn't need to know the rest of the fine print."
A handful of seconds after the words are out of his mouth does he realize that that was possibly a little bit too honest, and he flinches, eyes darting over to take in Robotnik's reaction to the sentimentality. What he finds startles him almost more than his own thoughtless words: The foreboding dark expression of the beginning of a rant is missing, and instead, Robotnik looks actually surprised; an expression Stone has seen him wear possibly two or three times ever since he has started working for the genius.
Then Robotnik catches him looking, and the moment is over. Walls visibly slam back up while the doctor rears back, pulling himself up to his full height, and gestures with the card, spitting out words with the speed and intensity of a cracking whip, "Well, whatever, sycophant, if you're thinking about taking that free day now of all times, let me tell you your timing is the absolute worst, and you could have waited with celebrating your lucky conception until we're at least done with the work for the day-…"
Still reeling from the close-call of baring too much of his feelings and dizzy with the rapid fire of words he is being subjected to, Stone doesn't even consider the consequences before he blurts out, effectively interrupting the other, "I'm not going to."
Ah, now there is the beginning anger. Figures; Robotnik has never taken well to being interrupted, and especially not when he is already ranting. He falls quiet for approximately two seconds before he says, low and icy, "What was that?"
"I'm not going to. Doctor," Stone hurries to tack on the title, and then keeps talking in the hopes of soothing the other's terrible temper at least a little, "I would rather work as usual, if it's all the same to you."
He expects that to be it - for Robotnik to grumble some more over being interrupted, but then lose interest in this conversation quickly. Instead, he is suddenly the sole focus of the doctor's full attention, pinned down by a laser-like focus like a sample about to be dissected.
"Of course you're going to take the day off," Robotnik says, making a throw-away gesture with his hand. He doesn't sound entirely sure, though, and the way he keeps talking as if to explain makes that clear. "You celebrate useless dates like this, that's just your nature. You're sentimental like that. So don't lie and try sucking up to me just because you think-… what?!" Robotnik snaps, clearly sensing that Stone is this close to interrupting him once again.
Pulling a face – he hates when he somehow manages to upset the doctor continuously like this – Stone hurries to explain, "I don't care about my birthday. I don't celebrate it. So. I would really rather work today if…"
"Nono, hold up," Robotnik mimes zipping Stone's mouth shut, then repeats louder when Stone wants to protest, "Hold up, I said! What do you mean you don't care about birthdays? At least try to be convincing when you lie to my face; this statement does not match the previous data at all. You went out of your way to figure out my birthday-"
Stone opens his mouth to protest, or at least to downplay it, but Robotnik rips one hand up, tuts once, and simply talks over him "-… babababa, no, don't try to deny it, I know not even Walters would be so stupid to tell you the date outright; you figured that out on your own somehow. So keep the excuses to yourself, and let me continue - you went and got me a birthday present, and you were devastated when I threw it to the trash-…
"I wouldn't say devastated, doctor-…
"De-va-sta-ted." Which each syllable, Robotnik pokes one long finger against Stone's chest, nearly making him flinch with every stab. "But now I actually give you the chance to celebrate something your little heart is obviously set on, and you say No? What, do you expect me to be so moved by your dedication to work that I give you the day off myself? Would that give you a kick? You should know that's never going to happen. You have to be that smart, at least."
A beat of two passes in silence while they stare at each other, Robotnik clearly upset – his go-to when he does not want to admit he is confused, and Stone simply waiting. Once the agent is sure his boss is done ranting for the moment, he begins carefully, picking each word deliberately, "I like to celebrate the birthday of people who… are close to me, yes. But I don't see the point in celebrating my own; And there is no one who would celebrate my birthday with me, so there is no one to schedule this day around except for me and what I want to do. And I would rather work than sit at home doing nothing."
Releasing a deep breath, Stone risks another glance at the doctor, and notes that the other man's eyebrow have nearly reached his hairline by now. Nope. Still confused. Biting back a smile, Stone shrug and finishes, "It's really not that much of a riddle, doctor."
He seems to be the only one who thinks so. Robotnik keeps scrutinizing him from close up, narrowed eyes flitting back and forth over Stone's features as if reading a hidden code there... and failing, apparently. After moments which feel like an eternity, Robotnik rears back as suddenly as he has encroached on the other's space and begins tugging at his moustache, brows furrowed. "You just refuse to make sense, don't you?"
Stone has heard variations of that sentences a few times during the year or so working with the doctor, but never quite uttered with such annoyance. Unsure if he is expected to defend himself, he offers, "I'm… sorry?"
"Hmph." Robotnik whirls on his heels and starts pacing, still twirling his moustache. Thinking, thinking very carefully and at highspeed. Now if only Stone had the lick of an idea what he is thinking about. He can only watch, confused and intrigued, how Robotnik completes a few rounds back and forth, before the genius suddenly snaps back around to him, demanding sharply, "No one?"
The question seems a non-sequitur at first and Stone needs a second to remember what he had said earlier, and parse it together with the question hurled at him like a challenge. He shakes his head. "No one, doctor."
"Family?"
"None I care about."
"Friends? Colleagues?"
Is he looking to disprove Stone's claim that there is no one? If so, he will be let down; he could access the agent's most secret personal file, and the answer Stone gives now would still be the truth: "None to speak off."
"Pffft. Do you even have a social life?"
Despite himself, Stone laughs out loud at that, truly amused by the sheer irony of it. So yes, maybe he does have no social life to speak of; but to hear it from Robotnik of all people? Pot meet kettle. "You know my schedule better than anyone else," he points out, still chuckling. "Do you think I have one?"
That draws a twitch of around the corner of Robotnik's mouth; finally, amusement instead of anger. "Fair enough." A pause while the doctor tugs at his mustache in thought again, once, twice. Then: "And you really want to stay and work."
It is not really a question, but it is close to one. Stone thinks it should never have been a question in the first place. There is little else which he would choose over working side by side with Robotnik. "If it doesn't bother you, yes."
Something complicated happen with Robotnik's expression then; a series of little shifts and twitches, emotions too rapidly there and gone to be deciphered. Before Stone can even attempt to make sense of it, the doctor has already turned his back towards him, flapping his hand dismissably. "If it bothered me, Stone, I would have fired you long ago."
The words need a moment to sink in, but once they do, Stone feels something in his throat catch - words, maybe. Maybe an incredulous laugh. "Doctor-..."
"Back to work, sycophant," Robotnik's tone leaves no room for argument. This conversation is officially over.
Not that it matters. The important things have already been said. Stone is grinning from ear to ear behind the doctor's back, trying and failing to keep it out of his voice when he answers, "Of course, doctor."
Happy birthday to me, Stone thinks to himself while hurrying after his boss, fighting to bring his grin under control.
He rather thinks he fails spectacularly at it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stone barely sees Robotnik for the rest of the day. Despite what Robotnik had said about them having work to do, it really is the doctor who does the main part of it. As soon as they arrive back at the lab, Robotnik steers unerringly back into his main lab, starts tugging coat and gloves off, and throws himself back into finalizing the flight pod. Stone takes one beat to smile fondly at the man's back, amused by his so obvious enthusiasm, before turning back around to go back to his own work. Which is not nearly as exciting as Robotnik's, of course - he mainly starts answering the doctor's correspondences, fields off phone calls which would only distract the genius, and brings him fresh lattes and snacks in regular intervals. He doesn't mind the simple task; he is rather happy to keep all the boring stuff away from the genius while being able to witness greatness being designed and built from scratch.
Hours pass, with the doctor tinkering and Stone trying to stay out of his way and supporting him at the same time. As night starts creeping in, and Stone finds himself yawning into his hand several times, it dawns on him that he has failed to make Robotnik's late night latte by almost an hour. With a quiet curse, he slips off the barstool and starts to prepare a cup as fast he can. Briefly, he wonders about the fact that the doctor had not made him aware of the missing beverage - he had neither been yelled at over the comms, not had a Badnik sent to come get him.
Probably lost sense of time while working, Stone thinks with a chuckle, carefully setting a lid on top of the cup before hurrying out of the kitchen.
The lab is quiet and almost completely dark when he enters. Only the lights in the back, where the doctor is working on the flight pod, are still turned on. There is no clinking of tools, no clacking of keys or humming of holoscreens, and Stone wonders.
"Doctor, here is your..." frowning briefly when he does not spot Robotnik in front of his computer, Stone redirects his steps towards the illuminated part of the lab. Stepping around a desk and ducking past a gigantic holoscreen, he finally catches sight of his missing boss – and only barely manages to catch the last word which has been waiting on his tongue, swallows it down quickly before it can slip out and possibly disturb the other man.
The sound asleep other man.
Stone feels a way too fond smile curl his lips while he quietly steps up to the doctor and looks him over. At least he had not fallen asleep bent over his work this time; something which had happened multiple times before and always led to terrible back-pain for the man. This time, he lay sprawled back in his chair, slipped low in his seat, head tipped sideways and lips slightly parted while he breathes deep and even.
Thinking back, Stone figures that Robotnik had not left the lab in nearly thirty hours, which possibly meant that he had been awake for just as long, maybe even longer. Not a personal record yet, but apparently enough that his body had simply given out on him when he had refused to rest.
Like this, with the doctor unaware of it, Stone allows himself the indulgence of really taking Robotnik in, from his mused hair to the dark rings under his eyes, over the rise and fall of his chest right down to his features, relaxed in sleep. He looks peaceful, almost soft like this. A dangerous thing to think, Stone notes when he feels his something squeeze traitorously in his chest. No, he tells himself, shaking his head, focus. Don't get silly.
Forcing himself to turn his back on Robotnik while he regains his footing, Stone puts the latte down on a nearby table. Briefly, he takes a look at the flight pod Prototype - he cannot tell if it is finished yet, but it already looks incredibly impressive to the agent - before ducking past it towards the locker full with cleaning supplies and spare clothing in the back of the lab. It is not a locker Robotnik is ever likely to open, which makes it the perfect biding place for the items Stone is now looking for. He reemerges with a blanket and a pillow and slips back over to the doctor's side. Maneuvering a sleeping Robotnik around without waking him takes a bit pf work, and more than once Stone freezes mid-motion when the doctor snuffles a little too loudly. But finally, he manages it; taking a step back, he surveys his work and breathes out deeply in relief. Robotnik is now tucked into the chair sideways, a pillow under his head to support his neck, and the blanket wrapped tightly around him, and he is still deep asleep. Mentally Stone gives himself a pat on the back for a job well-done, before looking around. Well... what now?
His wandering gaze finds the clock on the computer screen. Eleven o'clock in the evening. His official shift had ended hours ago, but that does not mean much around here. He stays until the doctor's work is done, or until Robotnik sends him home. Now the work seems very well done for the day, and there is nobody who will tell him to go home. - he doubts Robotnik will wake up before night shifts into morning. But... another glance at Robotnik, who looks smaller in sleep, striped of all power and snark and theatrics. Leaving him here alone feels wrong, even though he knows the lab is as secure as a fortress.
Shaking vis head with a quiet sigh and a smile, Stone turns to leave the lab. He will wait until the doctor is awake again, yes, but not here, watching him like a creep. The kitchen will have to do.
On the way out, dimming the lights as he passes, Stone risks one last g lances over his shoulder to the slumbering form in the back of the lab... and resolutely ignores the by-now-familiar squeeze in his chest.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Stone!"
The shout echoing off the reinforced walls makes Stone look up from the espresso he has been nursing slowly. Barely catching a yawn behind a raised hand, the agent sleeps off the chair and stretches, glancing over at the clock on the wall. Past four in the morning. Not quite as long as he had suspected, but at least the doctor had gotten a few hours of sleep in.
Stone is just starting up the coffee machine, anticipating a dire need for lattes in his once-more awake boss, when Robotnik appears in the doorframe to the kitchen, looking hurried and mused. His hair is standing on end on one side, and the blanket is still wrapped around his shoulders, but his eyes are sharp as ever when they survey the kitchen until they land on Stone. Something like triumph gleams in the doctor's eyes and he takes a step forward, drawing the blanket tighter around himself seemingly without realizing it. "Ah good, you're still here!"
The moment he says it, Robotnik seems to realize something. A frown creases his brow and he glances at the clock, similar to how Stone had done it before, before his gaze returns to the agent even sharper than before; prodding, analyzing. "Why are you still here, sycophant?"
Because you're here would be the truth, but... not a good answer, Stone knows. Not safe at all. There really is no safe answer to that question, so Stone makes a last-ditch effort to change the subject "Was there something you needed?"
Apparently, he is in luck for once, since the weak attempt actually works. Robotnik blinks, frowns, and then all but lights up a near manic grin spreading over his face, baring his teeth. "Good news sycophant - you're allowed to be the amazed audience gawking in astonished wonder at my newest invention."
It says a lot about how tired Stone is, since his sluggish brain needs much longer than usual to make sense of the words and the obvious excitement. Once it finally sets in, he finds himself straightening up, growing excited himself. "Do you mean... is the flight pod finished?"
"Ding ding, congratulations, you figured out the obvious, Stone!" Not even Robotnik's insults are as cutting as usual, his grin too wide and his anticipation too great to even pretend to be derisive. "Gold stat for trying. Now come on, get moving, we have already wasted enough time!"
Any lingering tiredness goes up in smoke while Stone pushes off the kitchen counter and follows his boss when he whirls around and strides back down the hallway towards the lab. A Badnik greets them at the door, but Robotnik has little more than a distracted pat for it before ducking through the opening doors, Stone right behind him.
The lab looks no different from when Stone had last seen it, the lights still dimmed, the holoscreens still powered down. Only the suspended flight pod is floodlighted fully and that is where Robotnik stops, throwing out his arms wide, simultaneously chucking the blanket onto the nearest desk with the movement. "Here we are! Finally done!"
Amazed Smile spreading over his face, Stone steps closer carefully taking in the sleek, streamlined pod, the perfect white and silvery gleam of it. Reflexively, he raises one hand to touch, but hesitates before he can reach his target.
"Go on," Robotnik urges from behind him, grin still too obvious to sound as haughty as he probably wants to. "It won't break, and smudges from your grimy hands can be washed off."
Chuckling quietly - even now, he has to be a little insulting - Stone does as he is bid, allowing his palm to rest against the side of the pod while he walks down the length of it. He takes in every single detail, every nook and cranny with greedy eyes. In his time working for the doctor, he has seen a lot of impressive works, things nobody bit Robotnik could even have dreamed up, but this? This might just be the most impressive of them so far.
Having rounded the pod once, drinking it all in, Stone turns back to its creator; Robotnik is standing ramrod straight, head tilted while he watched Stone with the same rapt interest with which his assistant is taking in his invention.
"It's absolutely magnificent, doctor," Stone tells him honestly, making no attempt to hide any of the awe he feels.
At the praise, a triumph grin spreads over Robotnik's face - not his usual smirk, but an expression of true, pleased victory. Huffing, he waves Stone's words off as if he is not clearly enjoying them, still grinning. "Of course it is, sycophant - it's my work after all."
"Are you going to take it for a test flight?" Stone glances back at the invention again, feeling anticipation rise inside of him. Perhaps it is a stupid question - it is four in the morning after all, and they are both tired. But he is eager to see what the pod can do; to see the doctor in all his glory while he starts the machine for the first time. "Would you let me watch?"
"As flattering as your eagerness is, Stone - we're not ready to take it for a flight yet," a brief frown flits over Robotnik's face, and he steps in closer, comes to stand next to Stone while he reaches out to brush his fingertips against the pod's side. "The pod is finished, yes, but I'm still working on designing something which will protect the pilot from the forces acting on them. I'm thinking a flight suit might do the trick, but..."
At this point, Robotnik trails off, blinking rapidly as if waking from a dream. Stone, who had already anticipated another lengthy explanation on the ins and outs of a possible flight suit, frowns in surprise when Robotnik stops himself before he can really begin. Before he can question it however, Robotnik whirls around instead and snaps his fingers while he strides away from the pod, over to his desk. "Alas! Not the point! Point is that we cannot take it for a real test ride yet, buuut... I've got something which is almost as good."
The doctor plucks the pillow off the chair where it had still been laying, chucks it onto the desk, and begins to draw the chair across the lab towards the platform he used for his holograms during dance breaks. "Come on, Stone, over here-..."
Perplexed, Stone follows like he has been asked to, watching with a raised eyebrow while Robotnik swerves the chair around and puts it in the middle of the platform like a throne. "...-see here, the pod might not be finished yet, but with the finalized design I was able to program a hologram which simulates the exact environment, velocity and pressure the pilot will deal with, but without any of the negative side effects of it. Except maybe some nausea, but I'm sure you can deal with a disagreeing stomach can't you, Stone?"
Stone had been busy watching the doctor set everything up to his liking with a curious tilt of his head. At being addressed so directly, he blinks, then frowns deeply, sure he has misheard that somehow. "Me? Well, yes, but why-..."
"Perfect! Get over here," Robotnik interrupts, crooking a finger in a come hither gesture while he adjusts the chair one last time. "You will test the simulation for me."
Something about the wording catches Stone's attention, and he forces his tired brain to do its work and analyze it. It takes him longer than he would like - Robotnik is starting to tap his fingers on the backrest of the chair impatiently - but he manages, finally. He barely catches himself before his jaw can drop in astonishment. "Test? Doctor, do you mean you haven't yet..."
"... haven't yet gotten around to trying myself, yes, yes" Robotnik waves his hand impatiently, then repeats the inviting gesture. "I only just finished programming it, and I'm, regrettably, still slowed down too much from sleep to analyze the experience in detail. So, you will do it in my stead."
When the doctor repeats the crooking of fingers a third time, Stone follows it, moving like a puppet pulled by strings while his mind is still racing to catch up with the events. The doctor never lets anyone test his works; the first try, the first launch of any inventions, is always reserved for Robotnik himself. A privilege he gives to no one else.
This doesn't make any sense.
"Come on, don't fall asleep on me now, Stone," Robotnik grumbles under his breath, directing him to sit in the chair before turning away to type something into the console next to them. His gloves are missing, Stone notes distantly, so the doctor has to settle for manual commands on the computer itself.
"Doctor are you - are you sure?" He blurts out. Maybe good judgement is hard to come by at four in the morning and no sleep, else he would have thought twice over questioning Robotnik. "Usually you would do this yourself-..."
"I just told you why," Robotnik answers without looking up from his typing. "Do you ever listen when I talk?"
"I do." And then, proving his theory that his filters are definitely missing right now, Stone does not stop himself from adding: "And I know this is out of the ordinary for you."
There is a clack when the doctor's fingers miss the next command. The genius hesitates briefly before throwing a glance over his shoulder, his expression a strange mixture of annoyance and exhausted acceptance. "You're a smartass, you know that? Can't just sit there and take something good you're given without questioning it, not even this once."
That is... absolutely not what Stone had expected to hear, and he finds himself struck mute with confusion, helpless to do anything but ask, "Doctor?"
"Will you just... take it without arguing with me, this one time." Robotnik turns back around, preventing Stone from watching his expression while he talks. "You already refused the free day, Stone. Live a little, will you."
Free day? Stone frowns blearily, trying to keep up. What had the free day to do with anything...?
Oh.
Oh. No way. No way, right?
Robotnik still refuses to meet his gaze, and Stone might be tired, but not so tired that he is suicidal enough to ask the doctor if this is some kind of weird, clumsy way to give him one nice thing for his birthday. Heck, he is not even suicidal enough to think it too loudly.
Heart in his throat, Stone grapples to find words which will help him to make sure without drawing Robotnik's fury onto him. "Doctor, can I ask something?"
The doctor jerks his head in a vague nod. "Shoot."
"Is this still considered work?"
To anyone else, Stone is fairly sure his question would have been out of nowhere; an apparent non-sequitur. But for Robotnik with his brilliant memory… Stone hopes, no, he knows it is more than that for the doctor. He is absolutely sure that Robotnik remembers his own words just as well as the agent does; it is obvious in the way the genius stills entirely.
"Work, work, work . That's all which counts around here; that's all that counts for me ."
"... You clocked out, I assume?" Robotnik's voice sounds unusually quiet in comparison to his usual brash, intense behavior.
Not an immediate rejection. Something like a tentative hope blooms in Stone's chest, and he finds the corner of his lips twitching into a hesitant smile. "I clocked out hours ago."
"Well. And my shift probably ended when I fell asleep," Robotnik glances over briefly, then away again. Never quite meeting Stone's gaze. "Which means, obviously, that this is not work."
The smile breaks through entirely now. Stone makes no move to hide it in any way. "I see. I just wanted to make sure."
"Make sure if you can leave before I make you sit through a simulation which will make you hurl?"
"No." Did the doctor really believe he would leave now? No way in hell. Relaxing slowly back into the chair, Stone decides to take a risk. "But in that case, I'm thinking maybe we could - go get some cake. to celebrate."
That, finally, makes Robotnik stop, then turn around sharply. His eyebrows have kicked up to his hairline, and there is something startlingly close to open confusion on his face. "Cake." He repeats with a tone as if Stone had just proposed the most scandalous thing.
"To celebrate." Stone confirms, and hurries on to explain immediately, "The finishing of the flight pod, I mean. You have been working on this for months on end, so we should celebrate it."
"The flight pod. Right." Everything about Robotnik's expression and tone suggests that he sees very easily through the frankly horrible lie. Yet again, he does not immediately shut him down; he merely hesitates, then glances at the nearest clock blinking on a screen "It is now-… twenty to five in the morning, sycophant. Where do you propose to get a cake now?"
"There's a gas station not too far from here; I drive past it every time I come to work." The more he talks, the more Stone likes the idea. It is not like he has been lying to the doctor yesterday – he really did not care about his own birthday. No matter what the doctor might think right now, this isn't about that. But he really cannot think of anything better right now then sit here, together with Robotnik, and celebrate the success of a work well-done. "If it's alright with you, I can make a quick trip, ten minutes, top."
A hum comes from the genius while he tugs at his mustache, thinking carefully. Stone does not know if it is the treat which has him hesitating instead of refusing immediately – the doctor does have a sweet tooth, much as he wants to deny it – but he is nearly dizzy with hope, and carefully nudges one last time, "I don't know about you, doctor, but I'm pretty hungry."
"… Cake for breakfast, at four in the morning," while he speaks, Robotnik's lips twitch, and suddenly, he is laughing; a booming, loud thing which seems to come from his very core. "Where did your goodie-two shoes attitude go, Stone?!" He asks, still cackling as if this is all a hilarious joke. "I'm a terrible influence on you, clearly!"
Stone smiles and nearly bites a hole through his tongue to keep the words clamoring up his throat in place. I like your influence. That would be too much, he knows. It is already a miracle that he has gotten this far without being yelled at, slammed against the nearest wall, or kicked out entirely. He can only attribute Robotnik's mellow mood right now to the sleep-deprivation, and he is not going to ruin his chances right ow by being too honest. "So… yes?" He asks, feeling himself smiling wider than at the sight of the flight pod.
"Yes, yes; get that cake. I actually could use some sugar to wake up completely after that nap," Robotnik waves him off, huffing and puffing, but there is still a smirk lingering in the corner of his mouth, barely hidden by his mustache.
Eager like a child on Christmas morning, Stone jumps to his feet, mutters a hasty, "I will be right back" and turns to leave, still in a light daze.
"You better be," Robotnik calls after him. "f you're not back in ten minutes, I'm testing the simulation without you, sycophant!"
Grinning widely, Stone breaks into a sprint immediately, exhaustion forgotten in the face of such a challenge.
Let's see if I can make it in five.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the night – alright, early morning – feels like a dream, and Stone is not ashamed to admit he has to pinch himself once or twice secretly to make sure he did not just fall asleep at work and dream this all up.
The pinch stings, but he does not wake up, and he is immensely glad for it.
He arrives back at the lab in under ten minutes, grinning triumphantly while Robotnik rolls his eyes and snaps at him for being a show-off and how many laws did you just break while driving, sycophant? Unbelievable! The genius' fake annoyance does not last long, however, when Stone presents the promised cake – the most soggy, sugary-sweet chocolate cake he managed to find – and the gleam in Robotnik's eyes betrays him before he can even open his mouth to affirm, fine, yes, at least Stone had done something right.
They end up sitting across from each other at Robotnik's desk, each in a swivel chair, the cake and one cup of espresso and a latte between them. Stone merely pokes around in his own serving of cake, not really in the mood for the gooey sweetness of it. He is more than content to watch Robotnik instead, who is devouring the sweet treat with gusto in between a lengthy explanation of what he imagines the flight suit will look like, and the features he intends to add into it. Testing the simulation has somehow been forgotten by now, but Stone does not mind at all; he doubts testing it now, with a belly full of sugar and chocolate, would be a particularly smart thing to do. And, anyway – he is quite happy where he is right now, listening to Robotnik talk and talk and talk, a gleam in his eyes and a smear of chocolate clinging to the corner of his mouth.
But no matter how much he is enjoying the calm atmosphere, he is still so very tired. The coffee and the sugar help somewhat, but not for long. Soon enough, Stone finds himself yawning again, having to blink more often than usual to keep his burning eyes focused.
Of course, not even a sleep-deprived Robotnik is an unobservant Robotnik, and soon enough, the doctor interrupts his monologue to thrown at his assistant. "Am I boring you that much that you fall asleep on me, barnacle?"
"Never, doctor!" Stone hurries to assure, drawing himself up straighter, about to apologize… then catches the glint in the other's eyes, and laughs, startled. Holy – is he really so out of it that he is imagining things, or is Robotnik actually teasing him? Grinning himself now, he rubs at his eyes and assures, "I'm listening, really, just – tired. A bit."
That startlingly intense gaze burns into him for a moment longer before Robotnik sighs, and puts his fork down with a click. "Take the day off, Stone."
"I… what?" He can't have been hearing that right.
Apparently, he did. Robotnik rolls his eyes and mutters something about slow barnacles before repeating more harshly, "That free day you refused – take it now. You're no use to me like this."
Stone opens his mouth, about to refuse immediately – he can still work, he has worked on less sleep before – but something about the set of Robotnik's jaw tells him it will be of little use. Is this, again, a nice thing he is supposed to simply take without complaining? Well, no. Not this time. Before he can think better of it, he blurts out, "Let's split it."
They both stop – freeze, really. Blinking at each other as if they are both surprised to hear the words, and it is not clear yet which one of them is more perplexed.
"Split the free day?" Robotnik repeats finally, slowly. It is close to a miracle that he is not immediately snapping or laughing at him, Stone thinks, but maybe he actually managed to surprise the tired genius so much that his first reaction is not derision for once. "Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes – I mean, we're both tired," Stone tries to explain, attempts to put his sluggish thoughts into convincing words. "Some sleep would us do good, and we could be back by afternoon to continue the work…"
He trails off, unsure of what he is even attempting to achieve here. He really is more out of it than he thought, apparently. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself for Robotnik to lay it into him any moment now.
Yet again, however, the doctor surprises him (and causes, unknowingly, the third time that night that Stone pinches himself). Instead of sneering and brushing him off, or worse, Robotnik leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face with a tired sigh, and grumbles from under his palm, "Of all the things… you know what? Fine. Fine. We're taking the morning off."
Pinching really is not enough anymore at this point; Stone feels like slapping himself to make sure he is not dreaming when Robotnik pushes to his feet. "Yes?"
"Yes, Stone, I just said so." Now there is the sneer when Robotnik rounds on him, clacking his fingers under his assistant's nose. "As much as I hate to admit it, not even I will be able to do much good in this state, and you will be completely useless. We're regrouping and will come back here by lunch. Twelve o'clock, on the dot; and I don't care how much sleep you will have gotten by then. Clear?"
"I-… yes, clear. Of course."
"Good," a pause, in which Robotnik seems to wait for something, then the doctor rolls his eyes and claps his hands. "Which means you should get a move on and get ready to drive me home, sycophant. I don't know about you, but I'm not sleeping in the chair again."
"Ah – sorry," Stone shakes his head to get rid of the dizziness and confusion – it doesn't really help – and hurries to his feet, starting to stack the dirty dishes together and cleaning up the place haphazardly. He can barely believe they are actually leaving, and he feels like he has to be as quick as possible about it before Robotnik changes his mind again.
While he cleans up behind them and goes to get his things and especially his car keys, Robotnik vanishes briefly into the bowels of the lab, rummaging around in there. Stone pays him no deeper mind, certain that the doctor will meet him by the door as soon as he is finished.
The all-nighter makes itself known painfully the moment Stone emerges from the lab. The early morning sunlight stings in his burning eyes, making his head throb, and he throws his hand up to shield himself with a mutter curse.
The lab's door hisses open and then closed behind him, and Robotnik announces in that haughtily-amused tone of his, "You need sunglasses, Stone."
It doesn't click then, not yet that the doctor has used one of the forbidden words, one of those Things They Do Not Talk About. Stone is just so tired. He huffs a breath of laughter and turns to his boss to agree, "Probably, doc-…"
The rest of the word gets stuck somewhere in his throat when Stone comes face to face with Robotnik, and his gaze immediately catches on the doctor's face.
Or, to be more accurate, on the sunglasses balanced on his nose. Black, sleek, elegant sunglasses. Very familiar sunglasses.
Stone can feel his jaw drop slowly while he tries and fails to believe his eyes.
He doesn't get too long to think about it. Two fingers are snapped in front of his nose, impatiently, and Robotnik tuts loudly right in front of him. "Earth to Stone! I know I'm an impressive appearance, sycophant, but we're leaving right now, so if you could pick your jaw off the ground already and get in the car, I would be much obliged."
"But-…" but you threw them away. I watched you. Stone blinks, and stares, and still cannot make sense of what he sees. This can't be the same sunglasses but at the same time, he is sure they are. He has spent such a long time finding and then designing just the right pair; he recognizes them immediately now. A knot of feeling is suddenly swelling in his chest, making it hard to breathe, to speak. His voice his hoarse when he finally manages words again, "Those are. Very nice glasses, doctor."
"Why thank you… for nothing," Robotnik lets his fake-pleased smile drop on the last part. Somehow, the eyeroll is clear even with his eyes hidden behind reflective black. "I do have a mirror, you know. I know they suit me perfectly. I wouldn't wear them if they didn't."
The knot has taken over most of the space in his chest and throat now, bubbling and rising and slipping past all his carefully kept up facades. Stone finds himself grinning without a chance of controlling it, and rubs a hand over his face to mimic a cough and at least hide his dumb expression a little bit. "You, ah, cut an especially striking figure today, doctor. Very intimidating."
That, at least, gets a twitch of a smile from the genius, and he straightens seemingly unconsciously, brushing down his coat lightly. "Let's hope the pentagoons will think so at the next mandatory meeting, as well; with some luck, we can cut the meeting short that way."
A clack of his tongue, and Robotnik reaches over, grabbing Stone by the back of his neck and pushing him forward by it roughly. "Speaking of cutting short - get in the car already, Stone, we don't have all day. I want to be back here by afternoon at the latest."
"Yes, doctor." Stone does not mind the push or the extra step he has to take in order not to fall; he is quite glad he gets a chance to hide his amazed smile for a beat or two while he hurries to the car door. His heart is still in his throat, and his hands shake with sudden nerves while he unlocks the car and slips inside and behind the steering wheel.
He does not even get the chance to take another fortifying breath before the passenger's door opens and Robotnik slips into the seat beside him. £Immediately, Stone's entire attention is caught by the man again – the man and his new sunglasses.
He still can't believe Robotnik had kept them.
As if sensing his gaze – he probably does, actually – Robotnik tips his sunglasses down enough so he can glance over the rim of them, catches Stone's eye and – winks.
Winks, the absolute bastard. As if that is not going to lay waste to Stone's poor heart.
Alright, maybe that is unfair. The doctor does not know what he can do to him with such a simple gesture. Probably never will, for that matter.
Despite the sweet irony of it all, Stone grins, wide and toothy, letting his professional exterior slip completely for once while he switches gear and parks out.
So maybe he is starting to fall in love with the force of nature contained in a human body which is his boss. And maybe, maybe that is approximately as smart as fallowing in love with a slumbering volcano or a brewing storm, but…
So what? Stone thinks with a glance over at Robotnik, who is looking out the window, unaware of the close scrutiny he is under. So maybe he will be swept up in the storm; maybe he will be burned.
Right now, he is actually pretty willing to take the risk.