Work Text:
“It’s just one mission,” Agent Aban Stone mumbled to himself in front of the mirror before splashing cold water in his face. He grabbed a towel and wiped his face. Gripping the sides of the sink with shaking hands he mumbled again, “It’s just… one mission.”
They had to go spy on an informant, make sure that they weren’t double crossing the US government in any way. They wanted Robotnik to go for his spy tech, and Stone insisted that he go with the doctor since he is his personal body guard and assistant. The government, the sick jokesters they are, said that the only way it would look natural for them to be out together at a fancy restaurant would be if they’re dating.
Doctor Ivo Robotnik, an even more sick jokester, took this as a challenge.
So now Stone was in the laboratory’s attached bathroom, trying to calm down before going on a date with his boss. They would be following the informant with his girlfriend at a fancy restaurant uptown. Robotnik had to bribe the place for a reservation at the same time as the informant. Because they had to blend in, Stone and Robotnik had to dress nice like they were actually going on a date. They also had to take Stone’s car so they didn’t look like government workers.
Stone was wearing a button up pink shirt with a black tie, black pants, and black shoes. He also had his hair gelled back and got his facial hair trimmed. Robotnik was in his personal room getting ready to go, so Stone had no idea what he was wearing yet.
“One mission.” Stone told himself, “This is just for a mission. This is not real… Okay.” He walked out of the bathroom.
Robotnik was wearing a black turtleneck, black dress pants, red shoes, and a red jacket. It was practically his usual look for work, only now he was wearing a turtleneck. He was trying to fix his mustache in the mirror and ignore his whining badniks. He muttered to the badnik (mostly himsemf), “No, I’m not going to do anything flirtatious.” One badnik made a series of beeping at him. Robotnik huffed, “No. This isn’t a real date. Stop it.”
Another badnik projected a small hologram of Stone with digital hearts floating around. Robotnik lightly shoved the badnik away and snapped, “Don’t do that! Ever! Or I’ll remove your AI and make you into a glorified plunger.” The badnik flew away and hid under the nightstand.
Robotnik looked back in the mirror and sighed, “Even if I want it to be something, it isn’t good for work. I need to stay above stupid lowly human emotions. If I let myself fall like that… God, why am I monologueing! Who am I, a Disney villain?!” Robotnik grabbed his wallet and stormed out of his room.
Stone looked up from his watch, opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped. He blinked. Robotnik was equally amazed with how well put together Stone looked. He let himself study the agent for a moment.
Finally he cleared his throat and snapped, “Is the car ready?”
“Yes, doctor.” Stone said, “I put your tech in the trunk and I’ve already connected your phone via Bluetooth so that you can play your music on the way over. There’s a few guns in the trunk, one under the front seat, one under the passenger seat, and two in the glovebox’s secret compartment.”
Robotnik led the way out of the lab, up the ladder, out of the fake library front, and out to the parking lot. Stone went to his car and opened the doctor’s door for him. The doctor couldn’t help but sneer as he got into the car.
“No need to be a gentleman yet, Stone, we’re nowhere near the mission.” He snapped.
“Yes, Doctor.”
Stone got in the front seat and put the restaurant address into the GPS. He asked, “Do you know how big the restaurant is, Doctor?”
“Approximately the size of the average IHOP.” Robotnik said, “I don’t know, Stone. You’re the agent, it’s your job to know these things.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Stone sighed, slouching a little in his seat. The doctor was extra annoyed tonight. Of course Stone had no idea that it was because Robotnik was scared to fall in love with his assistant and decided it would be better to put up a cold wall between them.
Robotnik played a random playlist and got his phone out to pass the time. The restaurant was inconveniently far away from the laboratory.
Stone attempted to start conversation. “What are you thinking of ordering at the restaurant, Doctor?” He asked.
Robotnik scoffed, “I’m not ordering anything. We’re there to observe, not enjoy ourselves.”
Stone politely argued, “Doctor, we’ll blend in easier if we order food and eat. Maybe engage in small talk as well. I was thinking of ordering a ridiculously small plate of seafood or pasta.” He glanced at the Doctor.
“Well,” Robotnik decided to play along, “I’ll probably order something disgustingly fancy. Seafood like octopus or sushi. Or a pasta with too many mushrooms. I’ll even order wine if it pisses off whatever government general is reimbursing us for this.”
“We aren’t paying for this ourselves?” Stone grinned and said, “I’m going to order dessert then.”
“The reviews for the restaurant said the dark chocolate and orange cheesecake was to die for.” Robotnik said, “However, I heard they have a caramel sundae with gold shavings.”
“Real gold shavings?”
“Yup, and I think we should order it.”
Stone stopped the car at a light. He looked at the doctor and asked, “Is it really real gold?”
“No, it’s probably some man-made synthetic edible gold shavings that has a taste so uniquely bland that people eat it and think,” Robotnik mocked in a posh voice, “This is truly the most exquisite dish this side of the country. I’m glad I can spend my hard-earned capitalist money on this dish that will last me under four minutes!”
Stone couldn’t help but laugh. He joked in a British accent, “Perhaps later I will tell Bezos about it while we’re shooting poor starving children for sport!” Robotnik snorted and covered his mouth.
“God, don’t you just hate them?” Robotnik sighed, “Those bureaucratic, capitalistic power hungry 1%. Feasting on whatever bank account they can get their greasy hands on.”
The statement was confusing to Stone, because Stone assumed that Robotnik was included in that 1%. Stone cleared his throat and asked, “Doctor, may I ask a question?” After Robotnik nodded Stone continued, “Are you not a part of that upper class lifestyle?”
It was a more personal question than they were both used to. Sometimes Stone would talk about his life outside of work, but usually Robotnik stayed silent about his own life. All Stone really knew was that his first name was Ivo and how he liked his lattes. Come to think of it, Stone didn’t even know if Robotnik had a house.
Robotnik replied, “I do have a house, if you must know. It’s across the state though in a forest, hidden from government eyes and ears. I only go when I need to… I also have an apartment downtown that’s hidden as well. Again, I only go when I need to.”
Stone asked, “Why do you stay in the lab then?”
“I like my work.” Robotnik said, “I don’t need to eat or sleep or do anything else in a specific place, my room at the lab works just fine. No reason to leave… It’s comfortable.” He really mean tolerable . Nothing was comfortable about his tiny bedroom underneath a dusty library.
They pulled up to the restaurant, parking close to the door just in case they needed a quick get away. Stone said, “Well, doctor, I won’t pry but… it isn’t horrible to indulge in basic human luxuries.” He got out of the car, ending the conversation before Robotnik could argue or reprimand him. Stone went around and opened the doctor’s door.
“Thank you.” Robotnik mumbled, trying to ease himself into the mission’s role. God, he had almost forgotten about the mission. He was so happy in the car. Alone . Alone with his assistant.
Stone cheerfully replied, “Of course, honey.” The word felt so natural to him, he didn’t even need to think about it. Robotnik had to stop himself from gasping aloud at the sound of it. He ignored it for now, marching past Stone and to the restaurant door. But Stone quickly walked ahead and opened the door for him once again. “After you.” He said.
Robotnik walked ahead into the restaurant, heading up to the front desk. “Reservation for Peterson.” He said. The woman behind the desk smiled, grabbed two menus, and led them to a table.
It was Stone’s previous job to go on missions like this. He used to be a government assassin, and walking into a building was an unspoken routine for him. Survey the layout, take note of how many people are inside, search for possible exits, entrances, and side rooms, come up with ideas for protection in case there’s a shootout, and, finally, spot the target.
Derek Hart. 34. Grew up in Detroit but moved to Washington DC 5 years ago. Lives alone with a dog in a two story home outside the city. Allergic to oranges and tomatoes. Trained with firearms, but only owns one revolver and keeps it in a safe in the house. Last night he was suspected of being a spy for a terrorist group after being spotted at a bar meeting with a suspected terrorist groupie. Currently at an anniversary dinner with his girlfriend.
The waitress sat Robotnik and Stone down. She asked, “Can I get you started with anything tonight?”
“Water is fine.” Robotnik muttered. Stone wasn’t paying attention. Robotnik cleared his throat and said, “...Honey?”
Stone snapped to attention at the name. He blinked and stammered, “A, uh, a water please. Thank you.” The waitress nodded and walked away.
“Want me to call you babe next time?” Robotnik snapped quietly, “Pay attention.”
Stone whispered, “The informant is across the room with his girlfriend. He’s in a blue suit and green tie.” He picked up the menu, not meeting Robotnik’s eye. “What’re our names?”
“What?”
“Well, the reservation is apparently under Peterson. What’s our names then?” Stone asked, finally looking up. Robotnik was staring at Stone with a strange curiosity.
Robotnik thought about it. He said, “I’m Pierre Peterson.”
“Pierre is French but Peterson is Irish in origin.” Stone said without thinking. Robotnik glared. Stone whispered, “Try not to look so angry, babe.”
“ Oh I am gonna-“ Stone shot a look, nodding to the waitress coming by. Robotnik forced a smile. “-kiss you all over that beautiful face when we get home.”
I guess it isn’t… entirely disgusting to say things like that. Robotnik thought.
“How about Peter Galen.” Stone said. “Or-“
“I want an exotic name.” Robotnik interrupted, “Pierre. Ivan.”
“Ivan is good. Ivan Stepanov. Of course, you don’t exactly have a Russian accent so it might come off as odd.” Stone said.
“Well maybe I moved when I was very young.” Robotnik said, “I am an orphan after all. White people adopt foreign children all the time.” Stone smiled and looked at the informant again.
They looked so peaceful. Comfortable. Holding hands and looking over the menus together. Stone looked back at Robotnik, who was scooted as far back into his seat as possible as to avoid Stone. This isn’t going to work if I don’t fix it. He thought before making a risky move.
He reached across the table and took Robotnik’s hand. The doctor had to force himself not to recoil in shock and disgust. Stone asked nervously, “How was work today, babe?” Robotnik stared at Stone, mentally ‘blue-screening’ at the question. After a second or two he cleared his throat and intertwined their fingers.
“Annoying.” Robotnik said, “My assistant is a constant thorn in my side as usual.”
Stone gulped, but played along. “Oh, what did he do this time?”
“Acted like he knew everything about everything. Tries to tell me left and right what’s best for me and the company and all that other crap.” Robotnik snapped. He squeezed his hand harshly. “Nobody’s as understanding of me as you, sweetie .” The second statement was secretly an apology for the first, but neither realized it at the moment.
Stone winced and pulled away. “Well,” He smiled, “My boss was awful today. Reprimanded me like a dog, barking orders like one too.” Robotnik glared, his grip tightening on the menu. Stone didn’t look at him, slowly turning a page on the menu. “I might quit .”
The doctor’s face went red. He tapped his fingers on the menu, his mouth twitching into something between a scowl and a forced smile. Robotnik snapped, “I might fire my assistant, now that I’m thinking about him. Better yet just wipe his sorry excuse for a person off the face of the-“
“Sorry for the wait, what can I get for you two tonight?” The waitress asked, coming up to the table and getting her little notebook out. She clicked a pen as she waited.
Robotnik sat up straight and said, “I’ll have the octopus mushroom pasta, a glass of red wine, and a small side salad.” He handed the waitress the menu, who gladly folded it under her arm.
“I’ll have the shrimp fettuccine, a glass of red wine, and a small side salad. Thank you.” Stone smiled and handed her the menu. She clicked her pen a final time before walking away to put their order in.
Silent settled between the two as they waited for their meal. Every once in a while Robotnik would check his watch or his phone and Stone would remind him that they had to look like they were enjoying each other’s company.
He isn’t actually hurt by that quitting comment, right? Stone glanced up from his water. The doctor was on his phone again, bouncing his leg underneath the table. He can’t wait to leave… Shit, did I ruin things?
“I’m sure your assistant means well.” Stone said, “Even if he messes up sometimes… He probably cares about you a lot. For some reason.” Robotnik looked up. He slowly put his phone aside.
Robotnik sighed, “He’s… An adequate assistant… Your boss is probably stressed out, whether he wants to admit it or not. Which he doesn’t want to by the way.” Stone smiled a little.
Stone, once again, reached across the table and held Robotnik’s hand. “I’m glad I’m here with you… It’s nice to get away from work.” Stone admitted. Robotnik’s face was a different kind of red now. He squeezed Stone’s hand, gentle this time, and nodded in agreement.
The waitress came by with the food, dropping it off with a smile. The two ate quietly, occasionally glancing across the room at the informant, who received his food at the same time. Stone hoped the informant and his girlfriend got dessert, because that would mean that him and Robotnik would have time to get dessert as well. Robotnik secretly hoped for the exact same thing.
They finished their food, once again forcing them to make small talk. Stone said, “I’m going to be James Twain.”
“Twain?” Robotnik scoffed, “Are you a writer from 1900’s? Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn?”
“Fine.” Stone rolled his eyes. “James… Matthews.”
“Too white.” Robotnik said. “What about… James Hart.”
“Hart is also a white last name.” Stone said, “So is Stone. Any name could be a generic white last name.”
“No, any name can be a white last name. Only certain names are a generic white. Peters. Johnson. Dean. Mattews. Really any last name that can also be a first name.”
“ Nobody is naming their child Dean.” Stone argued with a smile, “If my parents named me Dean as my first name I would kill myself.”
“Oh, and Aban is so much better.” Robotnik teased.
“Ivo.” Stone said simply. The two were at an impasse.
Robotnik explained, “Ivo is a cool name. It’s cool. Aban is… I didn’t even know how to pronounce it when I first read it on your file.” This was a blatant lie as Robotnik was a genius and knew exactly how to pronounce it.
“Any name you can’t pronounce is uncool. Got it.” Stone nodded and said, “I’ll keep that in mind when we name our kids.”
“Kid.” Robotnik corrected without skipping a beat. “I don’t want multiple little things running around. Too much work for me.”
Stone scoffed, “Like you’ll be doing any of the parenting for our kid. You’ll be working, I’ll stay home and be the house husband.”
“Ridiculous, do you really think I can be anywhere without you? You need to stay by my side until your inevitable death.” Robotnik said. They stared at each other. For a second, they seemed to forget that the waitress wasn’t anywhere near them, and they didn’t have to act like this. Stone was still holding the doctor’s hand, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over Ivo’s knuckles. Do you really think I can be anywhere without you? Did I really let that slip out? Ivo’s mind raced. I’m ruining it, I’m fucking ruining everything I’ve tried so hard to build up and block out.
Stone whispered, “I don’t plan on leaving, Ivo. I hope you know that.” He squeezed his hand. Before Ivo could say anything else, Stone lifted his hand up and placed a gentle kiss to his pale, scratched knuckles. Robotnik’s face couldn’t get any more red.
The waitress took their plates and asked, “Will you be getting any dessert this evening, sirs?”
“I’ll have the caramel sundae please.” Stone said.
Robotnik cleared his throat. “Cheesecake.” She nodded and left again.
“Bureaucratic sundae then.” Robotnik teased, “Fake gold shavings too?” Stone smiled.
The dessert came by quickly, and Stone reluctantly had to let go of the doctor’s hand in order to eat it.
“How’s the cheesecake?” Stone asked.
“Delicious surprisingly.” Robotnik said, “But, it tastes like a frozen cheesecake from a box too. Weird balance. How’s the sundae and gold shavings?”
“Oh, it is positively perfect. Exactly how you described. The shavings are just bland enough to act as placebos, letting the brain fill in the blanks under the ruse that the shavings are actually good and authentic. In reality, it’s gold paper that disintegrates like cotton candy when it touches your tongue.” Stone explained, “But, it makes me feel like a special little rich boy. So it gets the job done all the same.”
Robotnik paused before replying, “I’m glad we connect.” Stone tilted his head like a confused puppy. Robotnik continued, “We just… bounce jokes off of each other. Bounce conversation off of each other… like we’ve been doing it for years.”
“We have been doing it for years.” Stone said, “Five years approximately.”
“I know, twit.” Robotnik snapped. The insult was weak, no real harsh intent behind it. He continued, “But even when we first met we did it. Talking like we already knew each other for years before. Like childhood friends.” Robotnik had never had childhood friends, but he assumed what he had with Stone was exactly what it should be like.
Stone finished his sundae and pushed the bowl a little to the side. He said, “My mother used to say that soulmates are like that. When they meet they act like they’ve always known each other… She’s like that with my father.” Robotnik’s cheeks turned a light pink at that.
He finished his cheesecake.
“Well… I’m not opposed to the theory, even though there is absolutely no scientific backing to the statement let alone plausibility.” Robotnik said bluntly. Stone smiled a little. This time Robotnik took Stone’s hand at first. “I’m not opposed to… being your soul mate.”
Stone said, “We should pay the bill and go. Maybe… back to-“
“The lab.” Robotnik finished, “I’m not…” I’m not ready to go home with you. Stone understood.
They paid the bill, tipped their waitress $200 to further piss off the government, and then went out to the car. Stone opened the car door for Robotnik a final time. He got in the front seat and turned the key.
“That was nice.” Stone said, “I wish-“ Robotnik quickly grabbed Stone’s jaw and forced him to turn towards him. Then, in a swift motion, he kissed Stone as hard as he could. It was an uncomfortable position, Stone awkwardly turned in the driver’s seat and Robotnik leaning over the gear shift.
Robotnik pulled away a little and asked, “What were you going to say?”
“I-I…” Stone took a deep breath and said, “I wish the government would send us on more missions like that.”
It took only three seconds for both parties to realize their mistake. Stone scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt, get out of the car, and look around the parking lot. While Stone did that, Robotnik swiped and tapped away at his phone. Four badniks floated out from under the car and after wherever the informant's car had gone.
Stone got in the car and huffed, “I cannot believe we forgot about the mission! That’s the whole reason we came here!”
“Well, if losing the informant that is clearly not a government spy meant getting dessert and a kiss with you, then we should lose informants more often.” Robotnik teased, fixing his mustache in the rear view mirror. Stone pulled out of the parking lot and slammed his foot on the gas. He didn’t want to have to explain to any government officials why they didn’t follow the informant home. “Don’t lie. You loved that.”
Stone looked at Robotnik. He slowly let a smile slip out. “I loved that.” He admitted, turning a sharp corner. Robotnik smiled and nodded.
“Good. We should go on more missions together, James” Robotnik said.
Stone replied, “I would love to, Ivan. But only if you admit that you can’t name your kid Dean and be legally sane.”