Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I hate this disguise,” Rough complained, tugging at the fake mustache. “Ugh, I think I used too much glue. What do you think?” He took off his baseball cap and sunglasses, dumped them on the table, then looked up at his brother, stretching out the long strands of the twirling mustache.

“Keep that on!” Tumble hissed, snatching the cap and sunglasses, and quickly shoving them back on the shorter skunk. He turned up the collar of Rough’s jacket and did the same for his baggy trench coat. “We can’t be seen, not yet. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. When are they getting to the main prize?” he said, still fumbling with his disguise.

Tumble raised the brim of his own bucket hat and glanced at the stage, where Jewel called another winner for some art piece. “Should be soon. They can’t have too many things back there now.”

“Lot of ugly stuff,” Rough said, finally leaving the mustache alone and squatting in his seat.

His brother had that right. Tumble had seen Eggman fashion numerous robots in his own repulsive image, but some of the art and furniture on display surpassed it. Rich people simply had no taste and he didn’t understand them at all. Maybe they could steal something from the dump one day and try to pass it off as an expensive work of art. There might be a few suckers who’d buy into it.

“And now the moment you’ve been waiting for, our special guest for the auction,” Jewel said as the spotlight swung to the edge of the stage. “Please welcome Vanilla.” A matronly rabbit stepped out from behind the curtain, politely waving to a few people and bowing her head to their applause. An air of class and kindness hovered about her, making Tumble pause for a second.

“As always, the lucky winner will get to spend all day with our special guest. Shall we open the bidding?”

“Hey!” Rough jabbed Tumble in the side and he realized that his ribs were incredibly sore, as though his brother poked him a dozen times. “Bro, snap out of it! We gotta go now!”

“Right.” Tumble fished the remote out of his pocket and pointed it at the stage. “From out of the darkness.”

Rough hopped off his chair, preparing to run. “Your auction crumbles.”

The taller one stood, double checked the exit doors right behind them, and confirmed the straight shot to the stage. “You’re never safe from.”

“ROUGH AND TUMBLE!” they shouted together just as Tumble pressed a button on the remote. The lights in the auction hall immediately died and a general clammer of commotion swept through the room. Tumble sprinted through the darkness, following the memorized path, his brother right behind him.

“Alright, people! Calm down!” Jewel said somewhere in darkness. “It’s a slight mishap. We’ll have the lights on momentarily!”

Tumble mounted the stage, landing with a heavy thud. He heard a gasp to his right, pinpointing where Vanilla stood, and snatched her up. Despite her height, she was surprisingly light. “Bro, the bag! Bring the bag!”

“On it!” Rough shouted out in the pitch blackness. He joined him on stage, stumbling and crashing into Jewel from the sounds of it.

“Let me go!” Vanilla flailed in Tumble’s grasp, but he kept a tight hold of her. Soon, his brother tapped him on the arm and he deposited their prize into the large bag. They quickly tied a knot on the top and wrapped a cord around it, securing the end in case she had any ideas about loosening the bag.

“Get the front,” Tumble ordered, picking up the back. Running as fast as their feet could carry them, they leapt off stage. Unfortunately, neither of them counted on their actions causing a general panic. People on all sides screamed and rushed around, colliding into each other and the two kidnappers.

There were too many people around. At that rate, the lights would come back on before they escaped. “Bro!” Tumble called to the front. “Stink Bomber!”

“Right.” Rough lobbed his half of the bag up onto the taller skunk’s shoulders and leapt away from him.

“Easy,” Tumble said to the bag, which punched and kicked at the back of his neck. “I got ya. But we need to get out of here.”

The lights suddenly came back on, blinding everyone in the auction hall. Tumble cursed silently to himself. Someone must have found the jammer they put in place. He hefted the struggling bag up higher and pushed a few people out of the way, heading for the door. Behind him, Jewel and others shouted and ordered him to stop. Security guards leapt into action, practically baring down on him.

“Coming in hot!” Rough yelled above. He attacked the group in a blur, spreading his stench everywhere. Tumble dashed ahead of it, clearing the spreading gas, while the security guards and auction participants caught the full blast. People coughed and hacked, rubbing at their teary eyes and falling to their hands and knees.

Tumble burst through the door into the lobby, his brother on his heels. Together, they carried the bag through the front door of the building. They high-fived, then headed for the city surrounding the auction hall. “Alright, back to the hideout!”

Vanilla was familiar with the occasional kidnapping. That didn’t mean she was used to it or possessed the flippant attitude one of the Restoration’s heroes often took to being stolen away, but she knew a thing or two about what to expect. As her daughter often helped Sonic and she herself allowed the famous hero and his friends to stay at her house, she had been targeted in the past. Usually with a big, bombastic show where Eggman gathered up dozens of hapless citizens or at least sent some deadly robot to capture her.

However, thrown into a giant sack and carried roughly like money robbed from a bank was new. As was being dumped onto a corner of a dirty floor, not in a cell or some high-tech base, but a dingy, messy ramshackle house. Piles of broken machine parts, moldy food, empty boxes, half-filled bags of garbage, and general junk spread throughout the room. In the center sat an old, well-worn sofa with springs sticking out of it. The only bit of light in the room came from the television facing the sofa. A news story about her kidnapping at the auction hall displayed on the screen, alongside a picture of Vanilla herself.

Two figures blocked her view of the television, their backs to the screen, which cast most of their features in a dark, menacing shadow. They lorded tall with their arms crossed and nasty smiles. “Who are you?” she asked, scooting away from them. “Where am I?”

Her kidnappers glanced at each other and the shorter of the two pointed at her. “Don’t try to escape.”

“And don’t you dare grumble,” the other said.

“You’re in the lair of.”

Both struck a pose, standing back-to-back and pointing at her. “ROUGH AND TUMBLE!”

Vanilla stared at them for a few long moments, processing what they said. Were these two new? Or some lower henchmen of Eggman? She felt much less intimidated by them, especially as their goofy introduction dissolved into bickering with each other.

“Grumble? Really?”

The taller one shrugged and scratched his cheek. “I blanked. How about you do the rhyming then?”

“Maybe we should write down some words to have on hand.”

Despite being full-grown adults, they squabbled like a couple of rowdy children. Struck by inspiration at the display, Vanilla had an idea. She was a mother. She knew how to handle children. Standing up and dusting off her skirt, she cleared her throat. “What kind of villains are you?”

The pair stopped, struck silent by her question. The taller one, Tumble she assumed, tilted his head. “Uh, what?”

“No plan, no coordination, just throw someone in a bag and whisk them away. How uncouth.”

Rough took a step forward and jabbed a finger. “Hey, we got a plan! An auction’s special guest should fetch a nice ransom.”

“Oh, yes,” she said patronizingly. “A homemaker might earn you a handful of rings.”

“H-Homemaker?” he repeated weakly.

They were clueless. If she kept this up, she could turn things around and hopefully escape. “You couldn’t be bothered to find out that. Just like you couldn’t be bothered to clean up at all. I mean, look at this place.” She picked up an old pizza box and tried not to gag from the smell. When she opened the lid, a few roaches scurried to the far corners of the box and she hurled it away, turning from the confused pair. She suppressed a shiver and continued on. “Absolutely disgusting. At least Doctor Eggman kept his place clean and he has large ships. What’s your excuse that you can’t take care of one little house?”

“Well, you see—” Tumble started, but she cut him off.

“That’s it. If you’re going to be proper villains, you can’t expect to have a filthy lair.” To her surprise, she found a broom and a box of garbage bags underneath a smaller mountain of trash. She tossed the bags to Rough. “You’re on trash duty. And you,” she pointed at the ceiling, “we’ll need some lights in here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said and hopped to their tasks without a second thought. Tumble scrounged out a stepladder and Rough shoved armfuls of junk into one of the bags. Vanilla swept the floor, keeping up the charade and one eye on the door, watching for a good chance to escape.

Vanilla directed Rough and Tumble’s efforts cleaning the decrepit house. Under the mess, she discovered a kitchenette near the front door with a playing card table and folding chairs, as well as a door to a small bathroom. The brothers managed to fix the lights and air conditioning, scrub the walls and floors clean, and organize whatever they didn’t toss out in garbage bags.

Unfortunately, no escape opportunity presented itself. Rough was constantly by the door, carrying sacks of trash out, and Tumble hung around the kitchenette, throwing out expired food from the fridge and cleaning dirty dishes in the sink. The room had a few windows, but they had boards nailed across them, leaving small slats between that were too small for her. The bathroom wasn’t any better, with a small rectangular window that not even Cream could squeeze through.

She found another door near the back and swept her way over to it while the brothers busied themselves wiping down the bathroom. It opened, but something heavy sat behind it. She peered out a nearby window and spotted part of a broken down, ancient car against the back door, buried amongst the tall grass and tangles of weeds that comprised the yard.

She sighed and resigned herself to hanging around the front door, waiting for her chance. However, she didn’t feel frightened much anymore. Rough and Tumble seemed pretty harmless with the lights on and the balance of control shifted. In fact, Tumble was more than eager to help out when she found the oven broken and a terrible odor emanating from it.

“I can take a look at it,” he said, scooting the oven away from the wall. He knelt down behind it while Vanilla held the door open, checking the smell. She heard some metal creaking as he worked, followed by a sharp snap and a crackle. “Yeowh!” Tumble fell onto his rear, biting the tips of his fingers.

Vanilla knelt by his side and took his hand, examining the scorch marks that ate through his gloves. “My goodness, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine, fine,” he said, grinning too wide. “Just grabbed the wrong wire. I can handle it.” He rolled back onto his knees and reached behind the oven again. She winced at another snap and pop. “Is it working now?” Tumble asked.

She turned the oven’s knob and reached inside. To her surprise, heat rose and drifted out. The foul stench faded as well. “Yes, it is.” Tumble crawled out from behind the oven and pushed it back into place. “You’re pretty handy around the house.”

“Nah,” he looked down, rubbing his neck. “I picked up some things here and there as a kid.”

“Know anything about clogged sinks?” she asked. She turned on the kitchen sink’s faucet and a thick, brown sludge plopped out while the pipes rumbled and whined.

“A little,” he said. He grabbed a small tool bag they’d scrounged up while cleaning, opened the cupboard doors beneath the sink, and slid into the cramped space on his back. He handed Vanilla a small flashlight. “Would you mind?”

She took it and shined the light on the curving pipe beneath the sink. As Tumble turned the shut-off valves, she asked, “So you’ve done a lot of this kind of work?”

He grabbed a wrench and unscrewed a section of pipe, loosening it. “Not this exactly. Our family used to have a scrapping business. My brother and I learned how to take apart and put together a lot of machines as kids. Over here, please.”

She raised the light to the pipe, displaying the gunk and goop inside. Tumble took a long screwdriver and dug at the blockage, scraping it out bit by bit. “I guess you don’t do that anymore.”

“Nope.”

“How come?”

“There never was much call for it. We weren’t ever sure where our next meal would come from or if we could afford it. After a while, we took on odd jobs, started hiring ourselves out as muscle. Turns out that smashing things up and taking what you want pays a lot more.”

“Kidnapping too?”

He stopped for a moment and looked up at her, his mouth twisted in regret. “Yeah, that too,” he said quietly. “Sorry.”

Vanilla glanced over her shoulder. Now that much of the trash had been cleaned, the floor swept, and walls washed, it looked livable. However, faded paint still coated the walls, peeling and chipping in spots. The wooden floor was eaten with termites and squeaked with any weight put on it. A general atmosphere of poverty hung in the air that she couldn’t help feeling sorry for.

Tumble muttered to himself. “Get out of there.” He jabbed the screwdriver further into the pipe and a rush of sludge poured into mouth. He gasped and choked, hurrying out from the cabinets, and spat the brown and green muck on the ground. Bending over with hands on his knees, he hacked and coughed for a minute. Vanilla rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

“Bro, you alright?” Rough asked, poking his head in. His brother gave him a shaky thumbs up. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he said, his voice hoarse, and he wiped the remains of the gunk from his lips. He quickly crawled back in, reattached the pipes, and turned on the valves. “There. Should be good.” When he raised his head, bits of the blockage clung to his fur and face.

“Okay, you need a shower,” Vanilla said, helping him to his feet. “Go ahead and take one. You need one anyway after cleaning all day.” She pointed at Rough. “Then you can go after him.”

The shorter skunk opened his mouth to argue, but then checked himself. Like his brother, he was coated in dust and grime. They both headed into the bathroom, leaving Vanilla completely alone in the kitchen to clean up the mess on the floor.

As she wiped up the contents of the sink, she eyed the front door for a moment. It was free and clear, nobody around to watch her. A turn of the doorknob and she was gone, never to look back.

Then she turned back to the bathroom and the house itself. It was far and away from her house, which she always tried to make cozy and inviting for everyone. No, this was cold and depressing. From the way Tumble talked, she suspected it wasn’t much different from their life growing up. A simple cleaning wouldn’t fix that.

She looked at the kitchen and the open cupboards. A few pots sat stacked next to plates in one and in another, she spotted various jars and cans of vegetables, beans, cheese, as well as other boxes of food. Not much to work with, but she grabbed one of the pots, filled it in the sink, put it on the oven, then rummaged through the cupboards and fridge, deciding what food to make.

“You almost done in there?” Rough asked, batting the shower curtain.

Tumble snapped out of his thoughts and whapped the curtain back. “Yeah, I’m finished.” He stepped out of the shower, grabbed a dirty towel from the corner of the floor, and dried himself off as Rough stepped in. He couldn’t stop thinking about Vanilla, how pretty she was, how her voice made his heart dance, how she looked at him with those big chocolate eyes of hers.

“Bro!” Rough shouted, again derailing his train of thought. “What’s with you?”

“W-What?” Tumble asked, nearly dropping the towel.

“You keep spacing out on me. I said do you think it’s a good idea to leave her in there alone? She could be trying to escape.”

“Oh, I guess not.” He didn’t make any attempt to move though. He stared blankly at the door, imagining Vanilla right behind it. “Actually, I don’t think it’s a bad idea. She’s not gonna leave like that.” In fact, he couldn’t imagine her doing anything underhanded. Not her. Not a sweet, wonderful person like Vanilla.

When his thoughts finally returned to the bathroom, Rough stared at him with suspicious eyes. “What?”

“Why do you look like Dad when he was around Mom?” Rough asked.

Tumble checked himself in the cracked mirror above the sink. He was shocked to see a relaxed idiot with a dreamy smile plastered on his face looking back at him. “It’s nothing.”

Rough didn’t buy it and pointed at him. “Aw, bro. You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“No! Not at all!” He tried and failed to smooth out his face, erase the telling expression, but it was no use. The stubborn grin stayed locked in place. “I mean, I guess a little.”

Rough turned off the shower and stepped out, taking the towel from his brother and drying off. “C’mon, Romeo. Let’s get out there.”

As they exited the bathroom, Tumble smelled an unusual flavor in the air. Not rotting trash or the typical burnt microwave dinners they ate, but cooked food. Vanilla stood over in the kitchen, stirring a pot on the stove, and the smell grew into a salivating, delicious scent that his stomach rumbled for.

“Have a seat,” Vanilla said. “I’m almost done.”

The brothers sat at the table behind her, where old, chipped plates were laid out for three, along with cups of water. Vanilla turned off the stove’s burner and scooped out a generous helping of the meal onto their plates. It was some kind of pasta with creamy sauce and garnished with herbs. She also poured out a heated side of vegetables from a bowl beside it. The whole dish looked like meals he often saw at restaurants.

Rough wasted no time grabbing a fork and digging in. His eyes widened and then he melted into a puddle with a satisfied groan. “It’s so good,” he mumbled.

Tumble took a bite too and wholeheartedly agreed with his brother. He couldn’t remember the last time he had food this tasty. Unlike his brother, who shoveled forkfuls of the food into his mouth, Tumble tried to eat slowly and more respectfully as Vanilla sat down with them.

“It’s fettucine alfredo,” Vanilla said, trying her food. “There wasn’t much to work with, but I think it came out well.”

Nodding, Tumble swallowed. “Yeah. Thanks.”

She glanced at Rough, amused as he polished off the plate and licked the last of the cream off. “I take it it’s been a while since you’ve had a home-cooked meal?” she asked, leaning towards Tumble. She was close, staring right at him, and his heart pounded against his ribs.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice cracking, and he drank some water. “Yeah, it has. We, uh, lost our parents a long time ago. Neither of us got around to picking up a cookbook.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to have a meal like this again.”

She looked pleased. “I always thought a meal helps make things better. It always cheers up my daughter when she has a bad day.”

He stopped mid-chew, a lump in his throat. She had a daughter. And they’d stolen Vanilla away from her. It he felt miserable before, now he felt like the sludge he cleaned out of the sink. “You have a kid? How old?”

“Six,” she said and a knife tore into his chest.

However, surely her daughter had a father to take care of her for the time being. “Was her father at the auction?”

Vanilla shook her head. “No, I’m afraid he’s gone.”

Another knife drove deep into Tumble’s chest. “Oh.”

“It’s okay. It happened a while ago, when my Cream was a baby. My husband was lost in one of the conflicts with Eggman. He was trying to help some others evacuate and…” She picked at her food and looked up. “Well, suffice to say, I had to raise Cream on my own. It wasn’t easy and she misses her father dearly. So I have an idea how hard it can be for someone to grow up without a parent.”

Tumble glanced across the table at his brother, who leaned back in the chair, patting his bulging stomach with immense satisfaction. Rough burped and picked at his teeth, then met his brother’s eyes. He caught onto Tumble’s inkling right away and frowned. But Tumble held firm and Rough rolled his eyes after several seconds, waving him on and turning away.

“You can go,” he said quietly.

Vanilla froze. “What?”

“I said you can go.” Tumble pushed aside his plate of food and leaned forward. “Look, we’re sorry about taking you from your kid. If I’d known that, well,” he shrugged. “Guess that makes me a pretty poor bad guy. A better one would check that out first, you know? So go on. Get back to your kid.”

Vanilla watched him for a long moment. She rose and pushed her chair in, then bowed her head to him. “Thank you.” She headed for the door, but as she opened it, she turned back to Tumble. “For the record, maybe it’s a good thing that you make such a poor villain. Something tells me that it’s not really your calling.”

He snorted. “Maybe not.” Then his expression softened. “Thanks.”

She nodded to Rough and left, closing the door behind her. Tumble watched it for a while, hoping that she might come back. Ridiculous, he knew, but a man could wish.

“Well, so much for our payday,” Rough said. When Tumble faced him, he belched louder and struggled to sit up in his chair. “Still, guess it’s not all bad. She helped us clean up and made this fetu-buco al-pasto.”

“Yeah.”

They were silent for a couple of minutes as Tumble replayed her words in his mind again and again. That he made for a sorry villain. That he wasn’t really meant for this. It actually lifted his spirits.

“You know, she’s too mature for you,” Rough said, using his fork to dig between his teeth.

“Is not! She’s only a few years older,” he protested.

“Uh-huh. So what are you thinking? Don’t hide it.” He pointed the fork at him. “I can see you’re planning something.”

“I was just thinking that maybe,” Tumble bobbed his head from side to side, “maybe it’s time for me to get out of this business.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Rough pressed his palms against his eyes and rubbed furiously. “She got to you good, didn’t she? Got you wanting to turn your life all around for her, huh?”

Tumble couldn’t deny it. He was smitten with Vanilla and couldn’t get her out of his head. He wanted to be a better man for her, turn to the straight and narrow and earn her love in return.

Growling out loud in frustration, Rough tipped his chair backwards, then fell forward into the table. He rested his chin on the hard wood, puffing out a breath of air. “Fine. You wanna get married, have at it. That ain’t for me. But,” he propped his cheek in his hand, “I guess I wouldn’t mind being your best man, bro.”

Married? He hadn’t given the idea much thought, but he quite liked it now that Rough brought it up. Yes, first turning his life around, then winning over Vanilla, then marriage. “Thanks, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now,” he slapped the table excitedly and picked up his plate, “I want some more of that stuff. Let’s see if we can make that fetu-gaco albedo."

Chapter Text

“Yo, Ames! Got your next victim here!” The pink hedgehog perked up, looking in Sonic’s direction, then became crestfallen when she saw him pointing at Tails.

The little boy cut a grumpy glare at Sonic and sank into his chair, wishing he wasn’t here. No, more than that, he wished he hadn’t lost a bet. Or even made the bet to begin with. As if to rub it in, Sonic nudged him repeatedly. “C’mon. A deal’s a deal. You lost, so get on up there. Or you can always take the alternative.”

Announce Sonic as Lord of the Station Square Arcade for an entire month every time he entered a room? “Not a chance,” he said, sliding off the seat.

All eyes were on Tails as he joined Amy up on stage. A gaudy banner reading “STATION SQUARE DATING AUCTION” stretched from one of the stage’s ceiling to the other in the community center’s room, along with scribbled hearts and flowers. He climbed the metal staircase to the stage, each rattling step sounding like a bell toll for his execution. He didn’t really want to be in front of all these people and all these eyes.

“Let’s give a warm welcome to Tails,” Amy said, giving him a one-armed hug. She squeezed a bit too hard, clenching her teeth and looking in Sonic’s direction. “Remember, this is all for charity.”

Tails rolled his eyes. Charity. That was part of it. But another reason for the auction, and why Amy had volunteered to run it, was in hopes of getting Sonic on stage and bidding on him herself. So far, she hadn’t had much luck, as others had been pushed up on stage before him.

“Let’s start the bidding, shall we? Who here would like a date with this fine,” squeeze, “young” her hand dug painfully into his arm, “man?”

“Amy, please. Take it out on Sonic, not me,” he hissed. Her grip was so tight that if he were a stuffed animal, his head would’ve popped off by now.

“Sorry,” she said, covering the microphone and letting him go. She brushed his bruised arm and turned out to the crowd. “Anyone? Don’t be shy now.”

A teenager a little older than Tails raised her hand. “Ten rings.”

“Okay, we got ten. Anyone else?”

A couple of other girls’ arms shot up. One shouted, “Fifteen!” and her friend called, “Seventeen!”

“Eighteen.”

“Twenty!”

A few more hands were in the air now, waving for Amy’s attention. Tails looked to Sonic while Amy tried to figure out who was betting how much. The blue hedgehog gestured with his hand upwards. When Tails didn’t understand, Sonic stood up and puffed out his chest, hands on his hips.

Oh, stand up straight. He copied Sonic, following his example. Chest out, hands on hips, big smile. Okay, too big. And poke out my eyes? No, wait. Eye contact. He gazed out at the crowd, trying to appear more confident than he felt.

“I think we’re at twenty-five,” Amy said, pointing to one girl. “Yeah? Okay, do we have anyone else? Going once. Going twice.”

“Eighty rings!” a dainty voice called and all heads turned toward it. The bidder was suddenly aware of all the attention and shrank into her seat. She kept her hand up though and said again, “Um, eighty rings.”

Tails’ jaw dropped. Eighty rings. For a date. With him. Cream actually bid on him so they could go on a date together. He was frozen in place and simply stared out at her.

“Eighty rings it is, Cream. Once, twice, sold!” Amy said and patted Tails on the back, pushing him off-stage and toward the winner. “Have a wonderful date. Now, do we have any other volunteers? Perhaps someone fast and heroic and blue?”

Tails shuffled over to Cream’s table in the back, where she looked between him and the tablecloth. On the way, he passed by Sonic, who flashed him a cheeky grin and jerked his head back at Cream. Go get her.

The girl fiddled with her dress, picking at parts, then smoothing out the resulting wrinkles. She looked tiny and incredibly cute hiding with her large ears wrapped around her arms. Those deep chocolate eyes watched him sit down beside her.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she replied. She offered a small smile, then picked at her dress harder.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her. He certainly hadn’t expected Cream of all people to bid on him. Sure, they were close friends, but he hadn’t gotten the inclination she liked him in that manner. After all, she treated him with polite manners and a kind attitude, same as she did everyone else. It was one of the reasons he had a small crush on her. Unlike her, he’d never known how to act upon it.

But now her feelings toward him were out in the open. Or were they? Maybe she was just helping me out? He hadn’t exactly hidden how much he dreaded going up on that stage and taking part in Amy’s concocted love connection charade. He didn’t know how to read the situation hovering between Cream and himself.

Therefore, he asked the first thing that popped into his head, “Um, you want to go on a date with me?” She nodded, chewing on her lip. “Meaning you like me?” The last couple of words were hard to force out. Again, Cream nodded, her eyes shut and cheeks blooming rosy red.

Tails sat there, holding onto the table for support. Okay, okay, okay. What do I do? She wanted a date. She’d bid on it after all and he needed to provide that. He’d like to go out with her too. Even though he had no idea how to go about it. He looked to Amy for help, but she was already in the middle of another auction while making threatening gestures at Sonic.

He may not have known what to do for a date, but he knew it didn’t involve sitting here. He pushed back from the table, stood, and offered his hand to Cream. “Shall we?” he asked.

She slid her hand into his. It was very warm and wild shivers raced up his arm and through his chest. He held onto her tight, fearing he might suddenly become lightheaded, and led her to the exit.

I’m on a date, he thought repeatedly as they walked throughout the city, hand in hand. I’m on a date.

Every now and then, Tails stole a glance at Cream. She looked prettier somehow when he was this close to her. Maybe it was the effect of the date. It was making everything appear brighter and more colorful, including her. Every movement she made seemed delicate and graceful, even when she tried to glance at him, accidentally caught his eyes, and stumbled in embarrassment.

I’m on a date.

However, he soon realized that a date wasn’t just walking around. He needed to communicate with her, do more than this. “Uh, so where’s Cheese?”

“At a Chao daycare,” she said. “I’ve been trying to help him make some friends with other Chao.”

“I see.” His brain was empty of anything else to say. That’s it? That’s all you can think of? He could ramble off about inventions for hours or talk with his friends fine. Cream included, at least before today. He supposed it was just as well he couldn’t talk, since his mouth felt like it was full of cotton anyway. They needed something to do.

Up ahead, he caught sight of a movie theater. That was perfect. They wouldn’t need to talk during a movie and he could have time to figure out what else to do. “Um, would you like to?” She tilted her head, puzzled by his question and his cursed his dry mouth. He swallowed, trying to force saliva into it to no avail, and jabbed his finger up ahead.

She caught on quickly. “Oh, sure!” She squeezed his hand and took the lead.

The only movie starting at that moment was Chao in Space V: The Final Frontier. Tails purchased two tickets and employee behind the booth warned them, “Better hurry. The showings have been pretty packed.”

Unfortunately, the employee was right. Only two seats were still available, one in the far back and one in the front. Tails immediately offered the front seat to Cream. “I can sit in the back one,” he said.

Cream looked between him and the seat. “But I wanted to watch it with you beside me.”

So did he. “Well, I can stand.” He waved her to the seat and leaned against the railing separating the front row from the next level up. “It’ll be fine.”

However, before the previews were even over, someone in the upper row settled their feet on the back of Tails’ head. They steadily tapped their toes against him, over and over, a steady drumming rhythm that fast became annoying. He tried ducking down a little, but then their heels rested atop his head. By the time the movie started, he squatted on the floor like a frog on a lily pad.

“Tails,” Cream whispered. “Please take the seat.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said. In truth, his legs were straining and burning with the effort to stay squatted. He considered sitting on the floor, but a bright scene of the movie lit up the contents of the floor: old popcorn, a drink spill, smashed candy, and some other dirty stain he’d rather not think about. So squatting it was.

Cream grabbed his hand and tugged him. “I want you to.”

“Cream, no.”

“Please stop being stubborn!”

She yanked hard and he hopped forward, off-balance. He scrambled to stop himself falling face-first on the floor, throwing himself up. He landed on top of the seat. And on top of Cream, their noses inches apart from one another. He stopped breathing, unsure what to do. She stared wide-eyed at him, not moving either.

“A-hem!” A large woman to their left looked down her nose at them, annoyed by the commotion. They quickly came to their senses, muttering apologies, and squeezed together in the seat.

It was actually large enough for both of them, provided they sit shoulder to shoulder with one another. Cream smiled and leaned toward his ear, which wasn’t very far. “Isn’t this more comfortable?”

His heart double-timed, thumping wildly in his chest and his mouth was as dry as a desert. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Very comfortable.”

He sat back, tried to focus on the movie, and not lose his mind being right next to her. He didn’t have much success, especially when she laid against him, curling up into his chest. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? No doubt she could hear his heart about to explode forth from his ribcage and his stomach twisting itself into painful knots.

Then a sudden thought occurred to him. He’d heard Amy describe this exact situation before. During one of her many, many outspoken daydreams, she’d outlined Sonic and her going to the movies. “We’d sit side by side, he’d hold my hand, and at some point, he’d slip his arm around my shoulders. Then I’ll lift up the armrest between us to get closer and he’d turn to me, say my name, and…and…!”

Tails never did find out the end of her planned date. Amy would always devolve into whimsical sighs and girlish giggling as the rest of the scenario played out in her head. He could guess that it ended the same way all her fantasies did. By kissing Sonic and him admitting his deep, unwavering love for her.

The first part of Amy’s daydream stuck with Tails though. Cream was already next to him and his arm was already a little behind her. He wanted to do it. He wanted to hold her. But wasn’t sure if she would like that. He could hear Amy in his head, wanting to grab him and shake some sense into him. “She’s already next to you. You’re practically doing it already. So go ahead and hold her!”

Carefully, slowly, he raised his arm higher. He expected Cream to suddenly sit up and ask him what he was doing. She kept watching the movie, never once turning as his arm slid around her shoulders and pulled her close. I’m doing it! I’m actually doing it!

Tails felt faint. He gripped the arm rest on his other side, holding onto it, willing himself to stay calm. Okay, that’s done. Now, what next? The end goal was obviously kissing Cream, but was there something he should do before then? And right here, right now? He glanced at the packed theater and was self-conscious at the idea of doing it in front of everyone.

“Is something wrong?” Cream asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. Nothing. Just really into the movie.” He settled into the seat. No, this isn’t the right place. He’d need to figure out where to do it later. For now, he did his best to relax and enjoy the movie with her.

“What did you think of it?” she asked as they exited the theater into the bright sunshine.

Tails shielded his eyes and took her hand. “I liked it. Not as much as the last one with all the time travel. What about you?”

“I liked it too. I was so sad when the one Chao almost died.”

“Yeah, I’m glad he came back at the end.”

“Me too.”

Holding her hand didn’t seem as unusual and awkward as it was before the movie. It was downright benign after sitting so close to one another for well over an hour.

It was growing late in the afternoon as they talked about the movie and headed away from the theater. She would need to pick up Cheese soon, then return home. Otherwise, Vanilla would surely worry about her. However, Tails didn’t want to end the date just yet. He wanted to squeeze in as much time with her as possible. But what to do? he wondered. A fancy restaurant? He didn’t have the money for it. A trip to a museum? It was too far.

Suddenly, Cream gasped and pointed ahead. “Look at that!”

Tails peered against the sun and spotted a giant wheel in the distance. A Ferris wheel slowly spinning in front of several tall buildings. Cream already sprinted forward, pulling him along. “Let’s go see it!” she said.

They raced down the sidewalk and as they approached the giant wheel, more attractions started to appear. Among them were a carousel, a spinning thrill ride, and several booths selling food or calling to passerby to step right up and win prizes. A few tents sat at the back, with signs advertising stunt shows or stalls filled with antique appliances, cars, tools, and other curiosities. “A fair,” Tails said, taking it in. It was a little small and confined to a central park, but it was no less crowded. The streets were packed with parked cars and pedestrians quickly crossing to enter.

Tails paid for their entry and they shuffled in with rest of the crowd, wandering around with no particular destination. Cream marveled at the rides and attractions, especially as the sun started to set and the lights along the booths and tents lit up, turning the entire fair into a dazzling display of colors.

He watched Cream almost as much as the attractions around them. He regretted not attempting to kiss her in the theater and letting his nerves get the better of him. The theater was dark and no one would have really noticed. They would’ve been engrossed in the movie. Besides, Cream liked him and he liked her. A kiss would’ve been natural.

“Thank you,” she said, walking closer to him. “I really enjoyed today.”

“So did I,” he said and internally panicked. She was starting to wind the date down. Soon enough, she would tell him she needed to leave to go pick up Cheese and head home. He could see the hint of disappointment in her eyes though that he hadn’t made the final move. He couldn’t let the date end like this.

Should I just go ahead and do it? Again, he heard Amy in his ear, admonishing him. It needed to be romantic. Kissing her in the middle of a fair walkway or once she got home was the bare minimum and wouldn’t be special.

He glanced at the Ferris wheel in the center of the fair, standing tall above all the other booths around it and slowly spinning. Many of the open-air passenger cars had couples together, arms around one another and pointing or waving to people below. A few were quietly embracing, cheek to cheek, or turning to each other with an infectious smile before kissing.

That could work, he thought, glancing at Cream. Now all he needed was a pretext to get her on the Ferris wheel without appearing too eager and revealing his plan. They passed an information booth that listed a schedule of events on a blackboard. The ones that had already occurred were crossed out, but near the bottom, he read that a fireworks show was starting shortly.

He suggested it to Cream. “How about we stay to see that? Then I can walk you to the daycare?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“How about we watch it from the Ferris wheel?” She nodded and they entered the line for it.

Tails planned it all out as they moved closer and closer to the front. They’d get in their car, he’d wrap his arm around Cream like before, they’d watch the fireworks, and at the very top of the Ferris wheel, all by themselves, he’d do it. It’s fool-proof.

Fsst…BOOM!

Everyone’s heads twisted up to a bright explosion that covered the evening sky with hundreds of tiny red stars. Another golden firework sizzled after it, bursting seconds later to add to the effect. Quickly followed by more and more.

The people clapped and cheered while Tails’ heart sank. No. It was too early. He thought he had more time. A dozen people were still ahead of them and the fireworks only picked up.

“Aren’t they pretty, Tails?” Cream asked as a pair popped in the air and rained down like cascading waterfalls.

He swallowed. “Yeah, they sure are.”

The line inched forward agonizingly slow from that point on, as the people kept turning backwards to gawk at the display. Tails bounced his weight from one foot to the other, hoping and praying that the show wouldn’t end before they were on the Ferris wheel.

After what seemed like forever, they had their own passenger car. Despite the languid movement as it raised into the air, Cream scooted closer to Tails. He slid his arm around her, holding her close and waited. A gust of wind swept past and she winced against it. He curled his bushy namesakes around her, shielding her from the wind and warming her. He still had a chance to make it perfect.

The car rose and rose until it was halfway to the top. A large firework pierced the air and exploded. Tails eagerly scanned the horizon for more.

None came.

No. It couldn’t be over already. But the night sky was completely quiet and no further fireworks came as Cream cuddled close to him.

“This was the best date ever,” she said. “I’m glad I got to spend it with you.” When he didn’t answer, she looked up at him. “Is something wrong?”

He slumped back in his seat and shook his head as the Ferris wheel neared the top. “It’s nothing.”

“Tails, what is it? You can tell me.”

“Well, it’s just that…” Saying it out loud suddenly seemed very silly and he almost didn’t. She nudged her head under his chin, encouraging him to continue. “I had wanted to kiss you. And I thought it would be perfect to do it here, under the fireworks.”

“Oh,” and she looked down, eyes closed. “We could still kiss.”

“It won’t be perfect.”

She chuckled and raised her eyes to him. They were so soft in the lights of the fair and filled with so much affection for him that he could’ve drowned in it. “It’ll be perfect no matter what if it’s with you.”

The Ferris wheel lifted to the top and Tails leaned close to her. “Yeah,” he murmured, finally embracing her like he’d wanted to all day. As their lips met, all worry about making everything just right went out the window. Tails fell completely and totally into the kiss, nerves popping off throughout his body nonstop like a mini-firework show themselves. It was the most wonderful feeling he’d ever experienced and he never wanted it to end.

BOOM! A loud firework seemed to rock the car and split them apart for a moment. The pair stared in awe as more fireworks trailed after it, exploding one after the other in quick succession.

“Looks like you got your fireworks,” she said as the finale played out before them. The bombastic display reflected in her eyes, emitting a cacophony of brilliant colors that seemed to reflect his own soaring heart.

“Yeah,” he said and swooped back in for another kiss, no longer caring where they were, who was watching, or what happened around them. All he wanted was to be there with Cream and never let go.

Chapter Text

“Ready for your show?” Cassia asked.

Clove took a deep breath, catching Jewel’s eye as the beetle signaled to the side of the stage where the two pronghorns stood behind the curtain. “As I’ll ever be.” She took one last look at her younger sister, especially noting her arm. Her real arm.

True to his word, Tails had worked tirelessly to reverse Cassia’s cyberization and research her illness. That was the only reason Clove had even accepted Sonic’s offer to leave Eggman. That and after the hedgehog made short work of their base’s defenses, Clove knew that Eggman would lay all the blame at hers and Cassia’s feet. Better to get out unscathed while they could.

Because of that generosity, she stepped up when Jewel asked around for anybody to participate in the charity auction that afternoon. Helping out with an auction was a small step toward paying back their debt, but every little bit counted.

Unfortunately, it was only after she volunteered that Jewel told her it was an auction to spend a day with her. A date of sorts. She wasn’t able to back out, not after committing herself.

Cassia hadn’t lost her wide, toothy smile since she found out. “Better get out there. They’re all ready and waiting for you.”

Clove took another calming breath and joined Jewel on-stage, back militaristically straight and hands folded behind her. She nodded curtly to Jewel and faced the crowd, waiting patiently for this ridiculous show to be over.

“Our special guest today is Clove,” Jewel said, raising her gavel. “Do I have any bidders?”

While the audience stroked their chins and considered the bid, a scuffle occurred in the far back of the auditorium. A few people in the middle of the room started to raise their hands and were quickly shoved down as someone yelled, “Me! I bid on her!”

Clove peered into the darkness and heads turned to the figure racing to the front. As the person came closer and repeated her demand of “I got her,” Clove recognized the loudmouth. She immediately looked to Jewel and silently asked her to stop the auction.

Too late. Surge leapt on stage, slamming her feet down amid a shower of electric sparks, and pointed at the auctioneer. “I’ll take her!”

“B-B-But you have to make a bid,” Jewel protested before being buried beneath fistfuls of ring notes.

“That should be enough. And there’s more where that came from.”

Jewel picked up one of the notes and examined it. “Where did you get this much money?”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell. Just put it towards charity,” Surge said, then grinned wickedly at Clove. “Now, how about it?”

Clove looked to the audience. No one else raised a bid and Jewel was at a loss. The money seemed legitimate and despite her brash method, Surge was the highest bidder. Slowly, Jewel banged her gavel on the podium. “I guess that concludes the auction.”

“Sweet.” Surge snatched Clove’s hand and leered at her. “Now I got you for the whoooole day.”

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Cassia ran out from behind the curtain to her sister, but Surge sped off and out of the auction hall, dragging Clove behind her and leaving a trail of sizzling electric sparks in her wake.

“How could you let her take my sister?” she demanded, jabbing a finger in Jewel’s face.

“She was the only one who made a bid,” the beetle said lamely. “Anyone is allowed to bid on the prizes up here. Besides, Surge wouldn’t do anything.” Yet she couldn’t even say that with a straight face.

“If anything happens to my sister…” Cassia left the rest of the threat unsaid and raced out of the auditorium. She hated herself for even making light of this auction. She never should’ve let Clove do this. Cassia should’ve put a stop to it right away and forced her to find some other method of repayment. Deep down though, she knew that Clove could handle herself. Of course she could. Her sister was strong enough to take on Surge and win.

Which was precisely the problem. When Sonic and his friends had infiltrated the base’s defenses, Surge rushed ahead to prove herself the best of their forces. She meant to take out the ones overseeing the base: Clove and herself. Cassia had been too busy fending off Knuckles and Amy, but she heard bits of the brutal fight through her earpiece and saw the aftermath. Surge had been defeated, lying in a daze on the floor, covered in cuts and bruises.

Clove hadn’t escaped unharmed either. She teetered on shaky legs and only her staff kept her on her feet. One eye already swollen shut, she panted and nodded to Cassia before confronting the others.

When the overall battle ended and the deal struck between Sonic’s group and the two sisters, Kit carried out Surge. Cassia saw clearly that more than any other injuries, the tenrec’s ego was bruised. Even if she only lost by the skin of her teeth, she’d been humiliated. Cassia understood all too well what a damaged ego could do to a person and how it could drive them to retaliation.

She feared Surge intended to hurt her sister. Or worse. She needed to find them and fast.

But when she left the auction hall building and entered the city, she didn’t have the first clue where to find them. They could be anywhere. Or with Surge’s speed, they may be several cities over.

Think, think, think, she tapped her temple, running through ideas. Maybe someone in the Restoration had a way to track Surge. They would, wouldn’t they? In order to make sure she wouldn’t betray them? Perhaps Tails had something. But his workshop was far away. She could go back inside, swallow her pride, talk to Jewel. That could take too long though.

Then she spotted a familiar figure in the crowded streets ahead. A striking teal color and long ears folded back in worry. She recognized him. Surge’s sidekick. Kit.

He frantically looked around, spinning this way and that, then took off into the city. He must been searching for Surge too. After all, he was constantly glued to her side. Cassia rarely saw the pair apart.

Then if I follow him, he’ll lead me right to Surge. Jumping down the steps in front of the auction house, she raced after him, keeping him in sight the whole time. Please stay safe, Clove. I’m coming.

“All day! Got that? Aaaalll day!” Surge threw back her head and guffawed loudly again, drawing several stares. Clove almost wanted to reassure the passerby that no, her companion wasn’t crazy. Just loud and obnoxious. And possibly a little crazy.

In all honesty, it wasn’t as bad as Clove expected. She was fully prepared for Surge to lead her into an ambush. Or strike when she least expected it. Instead, the tenrec merely swung Clove’s arm as they walked hand in hand, content to gloat over inconveniencing her as a means of revenge.

“Hoping for something easy, huh? Maybe a nice date, some rich person to take you out on the town?” Surge jeered, poking Clove’s cheek, yet she didn’t rise to the taunt. “Never thought I’d show up, did you? Did you? Did you?”

“No, it certainly didn’t cross my mind.”

“That’s right it didn’t! Bet you regret signing up for that stupid auction now, right?”

She shrugged. “I’ve dealt with worse. I only did it to repay the Restoration for their help with my sister.”

“Sure and so you wouldn’t be blamed for failing Eggman after we totally trashed your place.”

She wanted to point out that Sonic did most of the trashing while Surge was busy losing to her. However, such pettiness wouldn’t do any good. Don’t stoop to her level. “That did play a part. But I was more concerned for my sister. Eggman lied to us,” she wrinkled her nose at the memory of him. “Sold us false promises.”

Surge clucked her tongue and glared at a pedestrian. Had she actually stopped her childish taunting? Clove allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction.

“Yeah, Starline was the same. Guess he learned it from that bloated windbag.”

“What do you mean?”

Surge tapped her head. “Starline brainwashed us. Total memory wipe except for the urge to kill Sonic. He sold me and Kit a false promise that we would be heroes. ‘The saviors this world deserved.’ It was one lie after another with him.”

“So then what about where you came from? Nothing?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t consider it important enough to record.”

They both fell silent, continuing throughout the city as Clove considered what she said. No memory. Nothing from her past at all. It reminded her of Eggman once more. The villainous doctor wasn’t above brainwashing others either. She’d seen the effects of his roboticization process. It overrode a being’s free will and thought, completely erasing what was once that Mobian into a loyal servant.

She shuddered. She hated to even think about it. When Eggman first proposed cyberization for Cassia, she’d feared her sister would be lost forever. Even though the process went smoothly and Cassia retained all her memories, Clove always suspected that there might be some sort of hidden fail-safe. Something to make Cassia revert to a mindless drone like those who were roboticized.

It was a terrible and horrifying notion to lose one’s past. Yet here was Surge who had experienced that. Her and Kit had experienced it and come out the other side intact, more or less. Perhaps she was stronger than Clove gave her credit for.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Surge cocked an eyebrow and mumbled, “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re right though. He and Eggman are one and the same. My sister is ill. Eggman promised to help her if we served him. It was all a lie.”

“Like father, like fanboy,” Surge said. “Best to get out while the gettin’s good.”

“Indeed.” She spotted a hot dog stand across the street and tugged Surge toward it. “How about we get something to eat? My treat.”

She grinned, displaying enough sharp teeth to make a shark envious. “Great! I’m starving!”

To Clove’s surprise, Surge easily put away several hot dogs. She didn’t mind though. The tenrec beamed the whole time, savoring every bite as though she hadn’t eaten all day, which maybe contributed to her rotten attitude. The change was quite pleasant and a little impressive as she snatched one after another from the vendor’s disbelieving hands.

As Clove ate her food, she thought she saw someone following them. But when she turned around, nobody was there. Shrugging, she returned to her hot dog and found Surge leaning in, mouth open wide, and prepared to take a large bite. She froze when she realized Clove saw her.

She offered up the hot dog. “Go ahead.”

Surge bit into it, muttering a grateful “Thanks,” through a mouthful of food. When she wasn’t trying to be insufferable and smug, she looked pretty approachable. Even cute, Clove admitted to herself.

As they walked through the city, Clove asked, “So, is there anything to do around here?”

Surge licked some dollops of ketchup and mustard from her fingertips. “Depends. You mean legal or illegal?”

“Legal, preferably.”

Surge pursed her lips for a moment then snapped her fingers. “Yeah, I actually heard about something going on today. You might get a kick out of it too. Come with me.”

Cassia watched her sister and Surge cross the street and round the block. Seconds later, Kit followed them and she raced after him too. Nothing untoward had happened so far, but Cassia knew they were planning something. They had to be.

Clove must’ve sensed Kit following them too. That’s why she hadn’t tried to escape Surge. If she did, it would cause a scene and they would spring the trap. She had to take Kit out of the equation so that Clove could escape.

Ducking down a series of alleyways, Cassia slowly caught up to Kit and passed him without his knowledge. When she was right behind Surge and Clove, she emerged from the last alley and hid behind a sandwich board outside of a bar and grill, waiting for Kit.

As soon as that bit of teal fur appeared around the board, she snatched him by the straps of his Hydro Pack. He yelped when she dragged him into the alley and slammed him against the wall. Immediately, watery tentacles sprang from the Hydro Pack, wriggling and growing in height above Cassia. One snapped out at her leg, yanking it and making her lose her balance. Another grabbed her real arm and coiled round it like a snake, twisting it painfully clockwise.

She gripped his throat with her cyberized hand, holding tight. It was her only move left. “Shut them down.” Two water tentacles whipped at her metal arm, but she refused to let go. She wouldn’t lose her sister like this. Squeezing, she ground out her command again even as the tendons in her real arm felt close to snapping. “Shut them down.”

“Let go first,” he said, digging his fingers into her cyberized hand.

“No, you.” She tightened her fingers and he squeaked.

“Go ahead,” he rasped and pounded on her fist with all his might. Her arm was close to breaking. “Won’t…let…you…hurt…her.”

Her? She flicked her eyes across the street where Surge and Clove entered a building, then back at Kit. Why would he think she would hurt Surge? Wasn’t it the pair of them that had a trap ready to hurt Clove?

Something wasn’t right here. Slowly, Cassia eased up on her grip.

That was a mistake on her part. Kit rebounded and used his remaining two tentacles to hold her metal arm aloft. “Now, stay back.” He coughed violently and doubled over. “Can’t let you. Can’t.”

“Hurt who?” she asked.

Straightening, he leaned on the wall, catching his breath. “Surge. Can’t hurt Surge.”

“I wasn’t planning to hurt her! I wanted to make sure you both didn’t attack my sister!”

“What are you talking about?”

Cassia winced and looked at her real arm. It was twisted harshly and about to break. “Do you mind easing up?”

He studied her for a moment before the watery limbs uncoiled from her arm, letting it dangle free. She breathed a sigh of relief and rotated it, testing its range. Still working, although incredibly sore. “I followed them from the auction, same as you. After Surge took her away, I figured she wanted revenge for Clove beating her and was leading her into an ambush.”

“That’s not entirely accurate,” he said, trailing off. “She did want revenge, but all she talked about was pestering your sister and annoying her. She’s been trying to improve since we’ve been helping the Restoration.”

“Uh-huh.” Like I’ll believe that for a second. She glanced at the building the pair had entered, reading the sign out front. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Making sure she didn’t revert to bad habits.”

“Well, can she handle any social events? Or is she prone to ruining them like the auction?” she asked, pointing across the street. Outside, a board read Local Food and Wine Testing Event.

Kit immediately dropped her and moaned softly to himself. “Oh, no. No, no, no. If she makes a mess of things, they might kick her out of the Restoration. I have to stop her.”

He was so focused on Surge that he never heard Cassia recover and approach from him behind. Raising her leg, she delivered a swift kick to the side of his head. He sailed face-first into the wall, smashing a few bricks to pieces.

She winced at the impact. Didn’t mean to kick him that hard. She checked him and confirmed he was alive, but out cold. She shrugged her arm again, hoping nothing was broken. Then she stole across the street and into the venue.

The spread of food and drinks was quite impressive. All sorts of local cooks, bakers, patissiers, butchers, and other vendors had served up their best dishes, from brightly colored roasted vegetable platters to diced fish drizzled with butter and spices to homey meals from smaller restaurants. Towers of tasty treats lined one table, alongside numerous glasses of wines, juices, and original concoctions of all flavors.

Surge didn’t restrain herself at all in sampling each and every one of them. She snatched up bits of food in the blink of an eye, carrying them by the armful and offering some to Clove. She graciously accepted a few, but was more surprised by Surge’s apparently bottomless stomach. “The hot dogs weren’t enough?”

“I burn a lot of energy.”

At least she’s not running rampant, she thought. Truly, Surge never seemed to rest or sit still. She reminded Clove of her sister in that regard, always restless, always hot-headed, like a bundle of energy that had to be let loose or else would explode. Although, there was something else about the shorter girl beside her. Something that was endearing and called Clove to pay extra attention to her. It could’ve been how she carried herself, bold, confident, self-assured, much like the pronghorn did. It could’ve been how each of them had been cheated by villains in the past. Or it could’ve even been that, for all her tough exterior and prickly edges, Surge was quite attractive in a way.

At the moment though, what did draw Clove’s attention was the mess of food around Surge’s lips as she scarfed several pastries. “Um, you have a little something.”

She wiped her mouth on her arm. “Did I get it?”

“You, uh, missed a spot. Here.” Clove grabbed a napkin off one table and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. She realized what she was doing after she finished and looked elsewhere in embarrassment, holding out the napkin to Surge. “Uh, here.”

“Yeah,” she said, balling it up into her pocket. The slight overstep of boundaries didn’t stop her from taking Clove’s hand again and leading her around.

They indulged and sampled the rest of the food, especially the desserts, which neither could help themselves around. Clove did put a stop to any wine tasting though. “Something tells me you and wine wouldn’t mix well.”

“Party pooper.” She did listen though and set the beverage back down, opting for one of the fruity colored juices instead.

After about an hour, they’d had their fill and a few of the vendors were giving Surge a stink-eye due to her repeat visits. Several of the people around were also whispering and giving her disapproving looks, which Surge called them out on. “You got a problem? It’s a food-tasting event and I’m tasting the food.”

Clove decided they’d best leave and they quickly went out a side exit and into an alley back in the city. Surge privately made a couple of rude gestures to a few people on the way out.

“Got your fill?” Clove asked.

“You bet.” Surge belched. “That was great. Oh, uh, sorry,” she quickly covered her mouth.

Clove shook her head and gave a small burp. “Yes, it was delicious.”

Surge smiled, then looked down the alley. “Well, I guess I’ve ruined your day enough. I’m sure Kit’s worried about me, so I should get going.” She didn’t make any move to leave though, instead rocking on the balls of her feet as though trying to come to a decision.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Clove said. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind doing this again. Without crashing the auction. And as long as you're on your best behavior.”

Surge brightened. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Stepping forward, Clove leaned down towards her shorter companion. To her surprise, Surge beat her to the punch, standing up on her tiptoes and kissing her. She returned it in full, both of them enjoying the sensation for a long while until Surge lost her balance and fell into her.

“My bad,” she said, scooting backwards. “Uh, I’ll, um, see you later.” With another quick grin, she took off.

Clove watched her leave, her heart beating a little faster and already excited about their next outing. She stayed in that trance until a voice cleared their throat behind her. Slipping out of the same exit, Cassia appeared especially pleased with herself, staring down her nose at her taller sister.

“Well, well, well. Guess I was worried about the wrong thing. Here I thought I’d find the place in shambles and Surge trying to take your life. Didn’t expect her to take your decency.”

Clove stalked toward the alley. “Let’s go. I should let Jewel know that everything’s fine.”

“So we’re not going to talk about that at all?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, c’mon! Do you know what I went through to get here?” She gave Clove a playful shove. Her sister, feeling a little giddy to, scooped her head under her arm, dragging Cassia along with her.

“I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it.”

Chapter Text

“I wish you wouldn’t do this,” Clove said.

“Why? Afraid I’ll get buried in donations?” Cassia asked. Her sister frowned deeply and she knew why. It was obvious to anyone that Cassia’s cyberized appearance made people stop and stare. Ever since they arrived at the Restoration, people kept doing double takes and giving her a wide berth, even after she already passed them by.

Still, Sonic and the core members of the Restoration had welcomed the pair with open arms, doing their best to make the sisters feel right at home, despite everyone else’s misgivings. They’d been given food, a roof over their heads, protection from Eggman’s retaliation, and Tails had worked tirelessly on reversing Cassia’s cyberization. He’d recently hit a wall after recovering one of her real arms. Still, he promised to figure out how to overcome it and cure her.

Clove had already stepped up for the Restoration’s auction. Cassia wouldn’t feel right if she didn’t help out too. Besides, it was for charity. Maybe if everyone saw her participate, they might relax around her and believe she actually meant to help them out.

She didn’t want nor expected to be adored and loved like some of the other guests the auction had in the past. Like her sister, she just wanted to be seen as more than the discarded scraps Eggman left behind. Literally and figuratively.

“I’m just afraid there might be a problem,” Clove said.

“Hey, it worked out fine for you. You even got a girlfriend out of it.” Cassia nudged the taller pronghorn teasingly.

“That’s,” Clove paused, averting her eyes, “a unique situation.”

“Sure, sure. Don’t worry, I got this. Just watch me win this crowd over.” She thumbed her chest. “By the end, they’ll love me.”

Clove smiled and hugged her. “I’m sure they will. I’ll be waiting for you, okay?”

Cassia returned the embrace and looked over her sister’s shoulder at her own arms. The sensors built into her body picked up that she was holding Clove. They also picked up on the rumple in the clothes as Clove bent over to hug her, and the worried breathing that Clove thought she hid very well for her younger sister’s sake.

Yet they didn’t pick up that all-important factor. The gentle warmth of the hug.

The real arm provided a little of that old familiar sensation. Yet it wasn’t enough. She squeezed Clove tighter, trying to draw some of that barely remembered warmth into the rest of her. How a person’s chest pressed to hers, how they seemed like a cozy blanket enveloping her. As always, she couldn’t, and only served to crush her sister’s spine. Clove didn’t complain. She offered Cassia whatever she needed.

“If you’re having second thoughts—” Clove started.

“No,” Cassia pulled back before she got lost in the older one’s worries. “I’ll be fine.”

The speakers in the back room squealed as Jewel tapped the microphone. “Thank you for your generous bids so far. We have one last item today. A day with a special guest. Please welcome to the stage, Cassia.”

The cyberized pronghorn squared her shoulders. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” Clove waved to her as Cassia pulled back the curtain and stepped out on stage.

Cassia took her place next to Jewel, whispering a polite “Hello,” then turned to the crowd. Her eyes quickly clicked and whirred, adjusting to the bright change in light. She saw everyone in the audience clearly and they stared at her, utterly surprised by her presence.

Smiling broadly, she waved to the crowd and Jewel said, “Let’s start the opening bid at twenty rings, shall we? Do I hear twenty?”

A second passed. Then five. Then fifteen. A half minute slowly ticked by while Jewel and Cassia looked out over everyone, searching for any raised hands. Jewel tried to encourage the crowd. “Twenty rings. Anybody? Remember, this is for charity. It goes to a good cause.”

Nobody raised their hands, but Cassia did hear muttering among the people. She tried to appear like she was looking over the crowd casually while she increased her auditory sensors. One by one, she heard quiet conversations around the room.

“They’re not serious, right? This has to be a joke.”

“I think they are.”

Cassia glanced at Jewel. The beetle tapped the podium nervously. Not a good sign.

In the front row, a figure twisted anxiously, her eyes darting between the stage and the whispering crowd. That tension rippled through the audience, all of whom shifted uncomfortably and scoffed at the pronghorn.

“I’m not bidding on a robot.”

“I think she’s cyberized.”

“Same difference.”

That one stung like a needle through her heart and she pursed her lips. She glanced at her sister. Clove peered out behind the curtain, as though she were making up her mind to come out onto the stage and end the auction. Don’t, Cassia silently begged. I can do this. She wrung her hands behind her back, digging her fingertips into her palms. I can do this.

“Why not use the day to interrogate her? Find out more about Eggman?”

“Yeah, that’d be a better use of time.” Several others agreed whole-heartedly.

Cassia clenched her wrist, close to ripping it off entirely and throwing it at someone. Although she could hear her sister in her head now, remarking that it would only make things worse. Yeah, I know. The violent cyberized enemy goes insane at the auction.

Her vision started to blur and she blinked rapidly. She shut off the enhanced audio, refusing to listen to anymore when someone commented about how cold her eyes appeared. Smiling tightly, she fought the tremor in her lip. Her eyes blinked faster like windshield wipers set to a high speed, refusing to let any tears through. She wanted out of the spotlight. Right now.

Be strong. You can do this. Again, rude mutterings echoed around the room.

Jewel leaned into the microphone again, trying to end the bidding as fast as possible. “How about we lower the opening bid then? Fifteen rings? Do I hear fifteen?”

Off to the side, Clove started to step out on stage. She’d had enough of this. Cassia tried to shake her head. Please, I promise I can do this.

“Fifteen,” someone near the front called in a small voice.

Jewel and Cassia blinked in surprise at the anxious girl raising her hand. Jewel sighed in relief and banged her gavel. “Fifteen it is then. To Ms. Belle.” The beetle smiled at Cassia and waved her to the stairs.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Cassia descended the steps and joined Belle at her table while Jewel dismissed the audience. Once the auction hall was mostly empty, Jewel stepped off the stage as well and approached Cassia. “I’m sorry about that.”

Cassia nodded. Clove rushed over and knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She put on a brave smile that had absolutely no confidence behind it. “Told you I could handle it.”

Her sister didn’t believe her for a second, but didn’t press the issue for now. Instead, she turned to Belle and bowed her head. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I thought it would go better,” Jewel said and sighed heavily. “I better lock things up. Would you mind helping me, Clove?”

“Of course.” She kissed her sister’s forehead. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

They left Cassia and Belle alone at the table while they headed out of the main hall. The pronghorn looked down at her artificial hand. The metal hand that closed and opened at the slightest thought. Almost like a real hand. Almost like the other.

But it wasn’t.

Just like the rest of her that had been taken by her illness. The disease stole piece after piece until what was left was a facsimile of what came before. A copy, with only her mind remaining. That and the memories of a real body.

And a real hug.

She balled up her fists and shook, hating this illness and hating Eggman even more. Completely frustrated by the fact that when a real body was in sight, Tails had reached an impasse. So she was left with one real arm, like a cruel consolation prize. She leaned on the table and hung her head, hoping Clove hurried back soon. She just wanted to go home.

“You’re not the first,” Belle said softly, “to have people be suspicious of you. They have reason to be. Eggman has done some terrible things to them, so some of the Restoration can be closed off compared to others like Sonic and Jewel. Still, they take it out on anyone connected to Eggman, whether or not it’s deserved.”

Cassia raised her head and took in Belle for the first time since she sat down. She realized the girl was a walking, talking wooden doll, with big, bright blue eyes, cute freckles, and grass green overalls. A little matching cap completed the ensemble and Cassia studied her for a long moment.

“You’re one of Eggman’s robots?” she asked, a little unsure.

“Yes, I was created by him during his time as Mr. Tinker. When I first arrived, there were people who hated me too. They thought I could be infiltrating the Restoration to bring it down from the inside. Some still believe that.”

Cassia shook her head. “How do you put up with it?”

“I have friends that help make it better. Like you do.” She nodded at the door Jewel left. “Your sister?”

“Yeah, she’s always looking out for me. Ever since, well,” Cassia gestured to herself.

“It also helps to throw yourself into work around here, no matter what anyone else thinks. I help out in the machine shop.” She held up her hand and one by one, her fingertips flipped open at the knuckles, revealing a miniature hammer, wrench, and other tools in place of phalanges.

Cassia smirked. “Cute.”

“Thanks.” She closed her fingers one by one and drummed on the table. “Hey, so, I don’t know what you planned to do, but if you wanted to, you could come with me to the machine shop. I could show you some of the things I’m working on.”

Cassia stared at her, taken aback by the offer. “You…want me to come with you?”

“Of course, you don’t have to,” Belle quickly added, waving her hands. “I understand if you want to forget about today and go home with your sister.”

That had been her intention. Yet sitting here and talking to Belle was actually pretty nice.  She liked knowing there was someone else who understood her situation and how others treated her. For the first time since she entered the auction hall, someone saw beyond the wires and metal shell.

And there was a charming eagerness to her smile that drew Cassia in. “Well, I wouldn’t mind. After all, you did bid on me. Let me go tell Clove and we can head out.”

The machine shop was larger than Cassia expected. On one of the lower floors of the Restoration’s headquarters, it stretched from one end of the building to the other. Scores of cars, planes, and other vehicles and machines sat in various states of repair in their own separate bays. Replacement parts or components lay beside the many of the vehicles and machines, waiting to be installed. Rows of tool chests and shelves lined the walls.

A few mechanics worked on some of the cars, slotting some new pieces into place. They waved to Belle as she passed to one of her own bays, where a small plane sat, its right wing stripped of its skin down to the skeleton. A data pad on the wall provided a readout of the plane, including the issues and the progress of its repair.

“The flap hasn’t been working,” Belle explained, scrolling through the information on the data pad. “So I requested some additional parts. Perfect! Looks like they arrived.”

She located the package on a workbench near the back corner and unwrapped it. Pulling out a mess of gears and pieces that Cassia wasn’t familiar with, Belle nodded to the plane. “Mind giving me a hand?”

They worked for a couple of hours without really talking, aside from Belle asking Cassia to hold a particular piece in one spot as she installed it or handing her a tool not in her finger repertoire to remove an old, burnt out part and replace it. The pronghorn enjoyed throwing herself into the work and soon, the auction was at the back of her mind.

Once Belle crawled out from underneath the wing after welding a smaller cylinder in place, she stood and declared, “That should do it. Would you mind getting in the front seat and adjusting the flap?”

Cassia climbed into the cockpit and scanned the numerous switches and buttons on the control panel before her. She located the control switch for the right wing’s flap and flicked it. To their delight, the flap angled down and Belle gave her a thumbs up.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Belle said as Cassia hopped out of the cockpit, “how did you and your sister end up here? I heard something about a fight and you both switched sides?”

“More or less,” she said and relayed the whole story of how they lost one of Eggman’s bases to Sonic and his team. “We figured it would be safer to surrender and join the Restoration than deal with Eggman’s wrath again. We were already on thin ice and once you fail Eggman too many times, you’re not useful to him anymore.” She jerked her chin to one of the discarded flap pieces on the ground. “You’re tossed aside.”

“Yeah. It took me a long time to figure that out too,” Belle said, running her hand along the plane’s wing. “I wanted to believe that Mr. Tinker was still in there and that he was really good deep down. He created me to help him fix things after all. Once he became Dr. Eggman again…”

“He had no further use for you?”

Belle nodded. “I couldn’t wrap my head around the sweet man I knew with that of the evil person everyone told me he was. Then I saw it for myself. He only wanted robots who could destroy.” Her expression dropped and she seemed briefly lost in a painful memory.

Cassia patted her hand gingerly. “I’m sorry.”

Belle nodded. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten over it.” She waved her over to the workbench and offered Cassia a seat. “The best thing you can do is try to forget about him. And hey, I hear Tails is working on helping you get your body back. That’s something to look forward to.”

“If he can do it. He’s been running into problems.”

“Don’t worry. He’s the smartest guy around. Personally, I think he’s smarter than Eggman, so he shouldn’t have any trouble.”

Cassia looked at her metal hand, flexing it. “I hope you’re right.”

Taking her hand, Belle squeezed it. “Trust him. He’ll have you back to your old self in no time.”

As they sat there, holding hands, she noticed how well-made Belle’s own hand was. How despite the wooden nature, it fit naturally in hers. Almost like they were custom-made for one another.

Cassia flushed at that thought and quietly pulled back. The other girl remembered herself as well and busied about with the data pad on the wall, typing rapidly. Searching for something to fill the awkward silence, Cassia said, “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind working down here. Could be pretty fun.”

“It is. We get all kinds of requests down here. Some of them are pretty crazy, so I wouldn’t mind having someone to help out.”

“Oh, is that why you bid on me?” Cassia teased.

Belle set the data pad down and shook her head. “No. Honestly, I didn’t know what I was doing. I was afraid to raise my hand at first and thought it might turn ugly. But then I looked at you and all I could think was that you shouldn’t be up there alone.”

The pronghorn blinked. She didn’t know how to respond. The girl’s words touched her dearly and her heart would’ve skipped a beat if it wasn’t strictly controlled by the rest of her synthetic body. Her breath grew shallow and she was certain that if she had more real body parts, there would also be a tingling spreading throughout all of her.

She leaned in, touching Belle’s shoulder, and the wooden girl turned toward her. Would she pull away? But Belle didn’t move. She stared at Cassia, her eyes wide and soft. The distance between them was charged and, for a second, Cassia could almost feel a different kind of warmth she’d long forgotten about.

“Cassia?”

The pair jumped and spun in their seats to the entrance of the bay. Clove stood there alongside another mechanic, who pointed toward the workbench. She thanked him and entered the bay. “I came to see if you wanted to grab some dinner. Are you finished here?”

Cassia looked to Belle, who hopped to her feet. “Yeah, we’re all done. She’s been great.” She helped the pronghorn to her feet and they lingered there, again holding hands.

“It was nice meeting you,” Cassia said.

“You too. And you,” she offered her hand to the older sister.

Clove gave her a firm handshake, then said to Cassia, “Let’s go. I heard about a place I think you’ll enjoy.”

Cassia started to follow her sister and fell behind, looking back at Belle. The wooden doll sat back down and returned to the data pad, tip-tapping in information slowly. Coming to a complete stop, Cassia bit her lip, then rushed back to Belle. She pecked her cheek, surprising the girl, who nearly fell out of her chair with a yelp.

“Gears and starters! Wha-Wha-Wha-?” Belle’s cheeks darkened like varnished wood left out in the sun.

“Mind if I come back tomorrow?” Cassia asked. “If the offer’s open.”

Belle quickly caught on and grinned. “Of course. You’re welcome anytime.”

“Cassia?”

“Coming!” she called over her shoulder. Then she whispered to Belle. “See you tomorrow.” She dashed off, unable to look back, her circuits buzzing with excitement and that warmth from before Clove interrupted them. She had a new hope in her heart that things might be better than she thought. And she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.