Chapter Text
Right on time, Doctor Robotnik saw Agent Stone enter the lab with a coffee in hand out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not sure why you’re still around,” Robotnik said without turning to look at his glorified assistant just yet. “I’ve tried everything to get rid of you, and yet here you remain.”
“It’s simple, sir,” Stone said as he finally made it to the Doctor’s side. “I like you a latte.”
Unbidden, Robotnik found the corner of his mouth twitch upward as he finally faced Stone, and felt the gears in his head catch on something, slowly and agonizingly grinding to a halt. The genuine look of adoration in that face, Stone’s own suppressed smile, the sentiment behind what he said.
A perverse impulse had Robotnik opening the lid to his coffee once Stone had turned his back, and before the Doctor had taken a sip. There was a heart drawn in the milk foam. Simple but effective.
And, dammit all, Robotnik hated stupid coffee puns.
Some kind of feeling bloomed in his chest, though, and it wasn’t heartburn-- that would’ve been easier to deal with. Robotnik took the coffee and turned away quickly, wordlessly, as the cogs in his brain unstuck and made up for lost time, apparently, going into overdrive.
Of all people on this planet, his traitorous brain decided Stone was the one he’d do this pair-bond bullshit with?
Robotnik put in a valiant effort to keep working on the badnik he’d been in the middle of repairing. It was a miracle he didn’t break it further, with how much his mind kept drifting back to Stone. Was Robotnik reading into that little look, that comment, too much? Or, on the other hand, was his own psychology just reacting to what was perceived as attraction? Worst of all was a general unreasonable giddiness, a lightness of his head that was almost literal dizziness.
Giddy. Not a way Robotnik ever thought he’d be describing himself. All over… what? A stupid stray thought that infected his brain? The success of some operation of Stone’s to ‘put him in his place,’ to humiliate him via some kind of seduction tactic?
Well, it wouldn’t work.
Stone wasn’t due to get Robotnik another coffee for a while, but Robotnik wasn’t a slave to the schedule-- only his little assistant. “Get me another latte, Stone!” he called out, and after a few moments of audible scrambling Stone was out the door of the lab.
It only took a minute or so to brew the cup, but it was plenty to let Robotnik’s thoughts brew as well. When Stone came back, Robotnik snatched the cup and took a deep drink-- it was perfect as always, but he spat it back out on Agent Stone’s perfectly crisp black suit. Shame it wouldn’t show any stains. “What’s this, you imbecile!” he shouted. “Well, I’m five steps ahead of your little game, Agent Wannabe. Well, you’re not so crafty as you think, your tricks won’t work on me! Can’t outfox the fox himself, Stone! I certainly won’t stand for you trying, either. Until you understand your place, you’re dismissed-- or until the end of the day, whichever is longer. Now take your dim-witted, obtuse, insensate, pulchritudinous, puerile, witless face and get out!”
Stone’s nonplussed expression was what Robotnik had been hoping to see-- perhaps a bit more confused than he’d been expecting, but that dismay on his face was the honeyed taste of victory to Robotnik’s ego.
Robotnik didn’t see Stone stopping on his way out of the building to check his phone, googling the definition of a word, because surely the Doctor hadn’t-- no, indeed, ‘pulchritudinous’ did mean what he’d thought, after all… he must have misheard, then.