Chapter Text
The project is in the prototyping phase.
Just a simple turret with camouflaging.
Assembling disassembly, testing.
Ensuring that everything is perfect before production.
This is Stone's favorite phase. He gets to be hands on as Robotnik's second pair of hands. Side by side, Stone either documenting or handing things to Robotnik, who was trying to do the impossible. They are so used to the dance that Robotnik doesn't even need to say out loud what tool he needs. Stone is just as familiar with the internals of the badnik as its brilliant creator, he could even assemble it blindfolded. (Dr. Robotnik has tested him before.)
On a rare occasion in these pleasantly monotonous moments Robotnik would try to make small talk.
Just like everything else about the man, Robotnik has a strange way to approach what he would to talk about. Sometimes he would be blunt, almost reluctantly taking. He would also interrogate Stone on occasion.
"Stone, do you want to play twenty questions?"
"Sure," he answered.
Almost cutting him off the doctor immediately asked, "Do you like men?"
Stone hesitated this isn't how the game is usually played, "...Yes ... do you?"
"I'm not answering that, next question."
Other times, he would wax poetically and talk for hours on end. Keeping Stone on edge with his stories. Stories about his childhood, an anxty teen phase amplified by ten fold by his genus, and even college experiments gone wrong because of useless teammates.
There where taboo topics, of course, that Stone isn't allowed to bring up unless Robotnik talks about it first, relationships, raisins, and family. Most people would have great difficulty finding what to talk about in these long stretches of time. Good thing they are not most people, rather opting to talk about their hobbies instead. What new work was Robotnik translating to three different languages, how many outfits did Stone design and for what occasions. Often engaging in these hobbies together too. Stone would proofread the French translation, Robotnik would indulge Agent Stone in shopping sprees and even playing dress up, along with various other side projects.
There are days when music is too distracting, white noise is not enough, just the sound of him working would drive him insane. Eventualy he figured out that Stone's voice was the perfect for such days. It's not too loud, not too disctracting, not too robotic. Ordering Stone to stay out of the way, and read out loud. At first he was reading only textbooks, as he was working on one of his masters at the time. As they got to know each other Stone read more diverse books, giving Robotnik a synopsis before reading.
Today Robotnik has been in a story telling mood. Finally giving the details on the one andonly time he was asked to be the best man.
Robotnik stops halfway through the story. Gasping in horror as he stared at a stripped screw.
Agent Stone was unaware of the impending meltdown as his back was to the doctor. Assuming that he got sidetracked and made a new discovery. Stone only turns his head as realizes this was not a pregnant pause leading to congratulations.
Dread fills Robotnik. How was this even possible? He takes great care with his babies, this was the very reason why nobody is alowed to touch them. To the point that every contract has this exact phrase, 'dissasembly will result in the termination of the service and the machines will be reposseded.' He only need to enforce clause once that once.
Even he, the creator, is capable of such abuse. His own hand caused this. No good human error, it is human failure. His faliure. Dr. Robotnik with his five phd's, failed.
Dr. Robotnik started to walk around shouting. Hands swinging in anger treating to destroy anything in the way. Only threatening, he know better than to actually harm any of his creations. This only went on for a hand full of minutes. He eventually tires out.
Stone has his own toolkit separate from the rest of the lab. Tantrum trauma tools as he would sometimes call it, meant for just this type of emergency. He pulls out a weighted blanket from the duffle bag draping it over Robotnik. Then briefly leaving to boil some water. As the water boils he hears the Doctor's breathing has evened and is more than likely asleep.
Continuing to dig into the duffle bag, Agent Stone retrieves a black case. He pulls a small rotary tool from the case. He likes to pretend that he is diffusing a bomb, in a way he is.
Agent Stone flourishes his hand as he chooses the right drill piece.This is vial, it must be strong enough to cut into the screw efficiently without damaging the motherboard underneath. He then grounds himself and gets to work. Carefully centering the drill into the stripped hole he starts drilling, slowly adding pressure until he sees fit.
He pauses. The now boiling water is loud enough to be heard in the lab. The rotary tool now set to spin in the opposite direction roars back to life as Agent Stone pulls it away from the mother board.
He is successful. Smiling in triumph Agent Stone looks over to his doctor. His eyes are still closed a smile ghosts over his face.
Stone discards the screw. The final thing pulled out from the bag is a pack of fruit snacks. Settling them in front of the the Doctor, who is now stitting up leaning against the base of his console. His eyes are closed with his lips gently parted. The red flush had faded into a dusty pink. It's far more flattering, the agent thought to himself.
Stone, as much as he wants to, can not simply stare forever. He slips back to the kitchenette pouring coffee into the french press along with water.