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The dramatic swell of music, the gasp of our star love interest, and the clashing of … fireplace pokers? Not the most effective weapons, but they are working with what's nearby. Pablo and Juan are locked in close quarters combat while Garbriella looks on. In the midst of the chaos, the trio misses Lucinda sneaking in and stealing Garbiella's necklace, which is the last momento left from her deceased grandmother after the fire back in season 7. The dramatic music swells as Lucinda steps back into the shadows as Pablo prepares to deal a seemingly deadly blow to Juan while Gabriella looks on in horror. The credits roll and the announcer promises a resolution next episode.
A snap of fingers and the screen goes dark for a moment, the Doctor cutting the program and opening up his blog instead. He types with exponential speed on his initial thoughts and speculations, how he had called that Lucinda was not who she seemed 7 episodes ago and how the fireplace pokers were foreshadowed back in season 5 for a confrontation between the brothers. His muttering and fingers flying over the keyboard the only sounds echoing in the crab for now. The microwave badnik floats nearby, red optic watching its creator, the rest are all on charge or outside on patrol keeping their perimeter secure while Stone is out.
As unsavory as it is, they can't completely remove themselves from humanity's baser trappings, no matter how hard they try. Stone needing to go out and about for supplies and food fairly reguarly. Wether the ex-agent will pay for them or steal them is always a fifty-fifty chance, really depends on the day, the store, and the public.
Though on days when Stone does pay, it's never with their own money. Their victims of credit card cloning and spoofing are always carefully chosen: GUN personnel in the area, relatives of pitiful scientific 'experts' that get everything wrong, or those attempted trolls from his streams. Honestly those attempted trolls are his favorite victims since Stone seems to take extra glee in causing those plebeians misfortune depending on the severity of their offense in the stream chat. It's such beautiful stress relief to watch these idiots lose everything in a matter of hours after one simple comment about how, 'Huevo sux' or 'Grandpa get off the stream'.
It's too bad that today sucks so much, that even troll retribution couldn't raise his spirits.
Once the review is typed, posted, and promoted, there's nothing more to do. Huffing and blowing the ends of his overgrown mustache up, his head falls back and the Doctor simply stares upwards at the ceiling of the crab. Things aren't as bad as they could be. The takeout box nightmare is fairly contained for now, just a few over by the console, no rotting food even yet. The microwave badnik only has only a few splatters of sauce from yesterday's burrito on it that haven't yet fully turned to that burnt stuck on cement like consistency. He's even in a fresh pair of sweats and t-shirt, robe freshly cleaned alongside his own body and hair too since it was laundry and shower day yesterday.
New episode days are supposed to bring joy, especially for that first watch. Stone always goes shopping because he knows the hyper-focus is needed for his analysis. They'll watch it together later like always later and he'll be able to know exactly how to show off to Stone on everything he called and provide additional foreshadowing and context to better enhance his partner's viewing experience.
So why is it so hollow today?
A push of his slipper clad foot against the crab floor has his chair spinning so easily. The fragility of the human brain his constant torment amidst the chronic aches that still plague him despite the recovery. If they can get their hands on the stem cells maybe that would help, but it's not really worth it. At least, not now.
Once upon a time he would crave these moments of silence and peace amidst his technology. While he cared for Stone, especially after they moved into their romantic partnership, he's always needed some solo time to push forward and break barriers. That's what this should be right now. Him breaking the barrier of this stupid rut, bouncing back and coming out thriving. But he's so tired, and honestly even more selfish than he used to be.
His technology is here, his Stone is here, his babies are here, and they're finally free of the government. If he wants to just sit here in their crab, in the middle of the ocean, far away from humanity, is it really that bad? That they're safe together out here, just the two of them and the machines. After fungal hell and ultimate power being wretched away, just enjoying the peace they can, knowing the plans can resume when he so wishes should be all he needs.
Why doesn't he wish to get back into it though? Is his pitiful mind truly that susceptible to this depression nonsense? Absolute horse shit. He's got all the pieces, he's just choosing to let them stay in the box for now. Nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. He's allowed a break, earned a break, desperately needs this big fat break.
But, then why does it feel so hollow?
The chair slowly comes to a stop from its spinning, leaving him angled away from the monitor and staring at the empty kitchenette area, and if that doesn't make it even worse somehow. All alone in this mech, not even his partner here to offer support because he can't get off his own ass to, to do something? He never helped with groceries before it all went topsy turvy, but that he can't bring himself to even offer now is frightening.
The once mighty Doctor slumps forward, holding his head in his hands as he takes in the utter loss of control of his life. It may have been five minutes or five hours like that, he's honestly not sure, but the crab is opening. The familiar creaks and groans as the ramp descends to let the ex-Agent return in his practiced manners. First the bike wheeled towards storage, a few babies wake to unload and take the bags, then the bike is properly stowed away, and finishing with Stone clicking the remote to retract the ramp and seal them back up inside before the crab moves back out to sea or ocean from wherever they've docked.
He can hear the badniks flying by with the bags, carefully placing them on the counter. There are a few worrying beeps and one even bumps his shoulder out of concern, but he remains hunched forward, head in his hands, sighing loudly and refusing to look up or even move. He doesn't hear Stone actually enter the room, just the jingle of the zipper pull on his jacket as he hangs it in its place before a moment later a warm hand on his shoulder as a soft kiss is placed on his temple. Stone hovers a moment to see if he wants to talk or move, but he stays still and silent.
Stone squeezes his shoulder before pulling back and stepping into the kitchenette to put away the supplies. He's a bit louder than he needs to be, the ex-agent could do all of this with no sound if he truly wished, but the soft sounds of their home being put in order lets the tight coil in the Doctor's chest unwind a bit. A deeper breath into his glove clad hands as he recognizes he's no longer alone in their crab.
Stone is here, he came home again. That fact alone should bring joy, a gotcha moment to prove his currently incapacitated mind that he's not unlovable and undesirable beyond all belief. But as usual, it's not enough evidence. It's never enough evidence. No matter how hard he tries and tries to logic his way through this, logic won't prevail. It can't for the asinine reason that the human brain is full of faulty wiring. His one chance to fix all that mess with the emerald and not even a passing thought then, so blind to the possibility of losing it that he couldn't even make the background upgrades that would have prevented this.
He's spiraling, of course he is, perfect, wonderful, great. Another groan into his hands as he forces himself up to at least sit back in the chair so he can watch Stone if nothing else. The other man seems to have everything put away, the awoken badniks now just floating around their open space. It does help him feel a bit better, their shared space, their babies, their domesticity. Even if he still needs to push that vicious part down that aches to lash out and ruin these moments to defend himself from having them turned against him. It's taken so long, but with Stone he can now actually tune that out.
Facing away and slightly bent forward, Stone apparently is cutting something up. He can tell from the practiced movements of his arm, the soft thuds with each connection of the knife to the cutting board, and the containers set nearby to collect whatever it is.
The man would make whatever his Doctor asked for, but the surprise of not knowing what it will be is honestly a joy. Especially since he can only seem to bring himself to directly ask for coffee, frozen burritos, or takeout right now. Though maybe they could mix it up and make fresh burritos themselves, customized, perfectly portioned, and a variety of fresh salsas to go with. Could be worth some proper travel planning to have the best ingredients possible too.
The sound of sizzling in a hot pain breaks the decadent fresh burrito plan as the pleasing aroma of chicken seasoned to perfection is now cooking. A slow blink and the kitchenette in front of him has shifted, more food boxes and containers, a basket that appears to be partially filled, and a few bottles of assorted beverages sit to the side. So lost in his thoughts while Stone has been busy. No point in dwelling, not like he can get that visual contact back, the cameras exist if he really wants to see later.
A push with his foot and he's spinning in his chair again. One of the bag carrying badniks letting out a series of beeps as it hovers over him, emitting some flashing beams of lights to accent him as the show of some sort of star. A faint and fond chuckle from Stone as the Doctor can't help but grin knowing he's being watched. On the next turn he blows a kiss and the blinding smile from his partner as he shoots a hand up to grab the kiss from the air and pull it in to rest over his chest. That tense feeling in his own chest uncoils a bit more.
He clicks his fingers together and an upbeat instrumental song starts playing as his chair slows its spin. The Doctor starting to move his arms to beckon and interact with the badniks, directing them so they're dancing around him in the air. As Stone works on finishing his food preparations and packing, he even takes on some movement, little head bops and shoulder wiggles in time to the beat.
He's lost himself to the chair dancing with the babies, a welcome distraction working for the moment on keeping the other thoughts at bay. A sudden tap on his left shoulder causing him to jolt, clutching his chest in mock panic as he scowls up at Stone, who is looking down at him softly. The shorter man leans down, cocking out his bent arm in an invitation.
"Doctor, please join me, I have a surprise."
He can't hold back the eye roll, wanting to bark and bite as his mind immediately supplies some more negative thoughts for some reason. Is the surprise that you're leaving? One final home cooked meal before it becomes frozen burrito only central forever? Shaking his own head to try and get the thoughts away, he just sighs, looping one arm into the offered elbow and the other to push himself up out of the chair to stand.
"If it's not a good surprise Stone, I'm purposefully going to explode the next seven burritos inside the microwave unit." A laugh, he's threatening the worst type of mess he can at the moment and the other man is laughing. The nerve.
"I promise you'll like it Doctor, trust me." The shorter man is now beaming up at him as he pulls them along, grabbing the basket full of whatever food he just prepared and packed. The Doctor follows along, able to grumble out of sheer performative muscle memory as his mind spins over.
Trust Stone. When did he start doing that? Why is it such second nature? What is the other's game? Is there a game? Stone could have walked away so many times, but he's here and wants to be. Logically it doesn't make sense. Much like where he's being lead apparently.
"We are not going out Stone! You know I'm not stepping foot on dry land until the next phase of world domination is in order." Is this it? When Stone somehow tires of him and dumps him out of the crab and forces him forward, tired of being stagnant?
"We're not going on land Doctor, we'd drown if we tried with the crab's current position and I don't feel like drowning." The shorter man enters a sequence on a wall control pad, stairs extending from the wall like the old mobile lab that lead up to a hatch on the very top of the crab. There's a hissing sound as the pressure releases, the top hatch fully opens and the smell of salt water hits their senses almost instantly. Stone squeezes his arm as he leads them up slowly and carefully. Stairs are still a bit tricky some days with the strain on his knees and lower back.
It's apparently the middle of the night wherever they are as they come out of the hatch. The Doctor takes it in pretty quickly. The crab is floating in the middle of one of whichever ocean or sea they're in. There's no land or man made structures or ships or anything visible in any direction. It's just them, the crab, the basket, the water, and a clear sky full of stars.
"See Doctor, no land anywhere in sight. One moment for me to prepare the surprise setup." Stone slips his arm away. The Doctor crossing his arms together and grumbling at the loss of contact as Stone pulls a set of control gloves from his pocket, quickly donning them to summon some of the badniks with a blanket and pillows to set up their seating.
"A midnight picnic under the stars Stone, really? Aren't picnics supposed to be a sunny sky thing and on grass?"
"This is more us though, with the stars and moon overhead instead of blinding sun. And no possibility of seagulls either to steal our food." A laugh as his elbows are gently grabbed and he's guided down to sit, the blanket insulating against the cool metal of the crab and the pillows to help support his still slightly fragile body into a comfortable place. Stone inputs a few more commands, several badniks going back into the crab to rest, with one remaining for music and two to ensure a secured perimeter to guarantee no interlopers of insect, fish, avian, or any other variety.
Stone sheds the control gloves before sitting down next to the Doctor, not yet touching as he carefully unpacks the food for them to enjoy. The sight and smell of it all makes his mouth water. There are hot pressed sandwiches full of decadently cooked chicken, melted cheese, and complimenting vegetables. A container full of hot, crispy, and perfectly seasoned hand cut fries. With an ending promise of sweetness in a frosted cake decorated like a perfectly circular badnik, the flavor unknown until they cut into it.
"I hope you enjoy Doctor, I know it's not the most elegant date spot, but the stars should help set the romance if nothing else." Another small laugh from Stone as he leans against the Doctor's side as they both eat. The Doctor scarfing down the food with a ravenous hunger while Stone consumes it all much slower, just seeming content to exist in this moment and watch his Doctor.
The soft lapping of water against the crab, the repetitive pathways of the badniks in their peripheries, the soft sound of background music, and the delicious food. It's such a peaceful bubble of existence, only made more romantic by the man sitting against him, sharing warmth with him. His partner who planned all this, ensuring his comfort, his food preferences, that he can't get sunburnt.
Too much, too much. He's failed, he doesn't deserve this. Why is Stone so indulgent when he gives nothing back anymore? He can't reciprocate with a sweep him off his feet and make him swoon date. He can't buy ingredients for a surprise meal. He can't even setup a picnic on his own. Forcing himself to down the final fries as a distraction before pushing the containers away, avoiding the cake and staring up at the stars and moon. His pulse is quick, his skin feels itchy, and his mind is running away.
"Doctor … " a soft whisper above the water, the gentle cradling of his hand and coaxing his fingers to release the death grip they have on the blanket. He refuses to look down from the sky, to see what Stone is doing, only feeling. The sensation of his gloved hand being reverently cradled before Stone's bare hand slots against his, palm to palm, fingers interlacing as Stone squeezes tighter, holding on.
"Stone…" he manages to croak out, a hoarse whisper. There's so much to question, to say, but if he really says it, will all this end? Will their bubble pop? It's what he deserves. But no harm in delaying it, to just enjoy this for now. Too bad his mouth doesn't seem to agree with that train of thought.
"Why?" He sounds so far away to himself even.
It hangs heavy in the air, the Doctor refusing to take his eyes off the stars, feeling Stone just staring at him. Savoring that feeling that warmth through his glove as he holds on so tight, waiting for the other to loosen his grip in disgust and pull away. It's inevitable after all. He's Ivo Robotnik, no one would ever continue to choose him. Stone's just been playing some type of long game that's finally at the end.
He can feel Stone begin to move his hand, this is it. It takes everything for him not to try and hold on tighter. Instead of letting go though, Stone tightens his own grip, turning his body towards the Doctor as he all but yanks him in against him. His free hand moving to carefully cradle the back of the Doctor's head and hold him tight to his chest. Stone releases the grip of their interlaced hands and moves his to the Doctor's back, desperately gripping at the fabric of his robe.
A wheezing sound leaves his lips at the sudden change in position, his own hands both coming up to grip at Stone's shirt, holding on desperately as everything whirls around him. Stone didn't pull away, Stone didn't leave, Stone is holding him. Holding him so desperately tight.
The badnik is still playing that music, the waves still lap at the sides of the crab, his heart beats loud in his ears. But all he can focus on is Stone.
"Because it's you." Stone takes in a somewhat shaky breath and gulps. He can't see the other's face but his voice alone … well, he doesn't like this tone on Stone, it sounds vulnerable and on the cusp of wounded. "Doctor, I'm never leaving your side of my own will, I'll always be here." Stone's hand that's been tightly gripping the back of his robe is loosened and moves to instead lightly rub up and down his back.
"Stone…" He lets out a shuddering breath of his own, slowly releasing his grip to instead wrap his arms around Stone. The sensation of the other's body in his grasp and the comforting hand rubbing his back. All these physical sensations helping to anchor him into this moment. He really should say something more, but all words seem trapped in his body, locked down behind password protections he hasn't cracked yet.
"I'm yours. You're mine." Stone carefully uses the hand cradling the back of the Doctor's head to carefully tilt it upwards, gently making them lock eyes. "I love and adore you." Stone moves them more, foreheads resting against each other. "Not your potential, not the what-ifs, not what you will do. Just you."
"I…" Emotional words are hard normally. Now, amidst the spiral of his earlier thoughts and the blinding love from his partner, it's so much. Then again, nothing is too much for him if he truly wants it. That's how he clawed his way back here in the first place, to get back to Stone. "I love you Stone…" he should say more, needs to say more, but he can't. It should be easier for how long they've been entangled in this romance, but that apparently doesn't matter.
"I know Doctor, and I'm so grateful for it." Stone understands, despite the pesky human limitations on a genius' brain, his partner understands. The oppressive thing in his chest slithers away as they bask in each other's presence a moment longer before the Doctor shoves Stone back with a smack to his chest.
"Enough of that sap, time for some sugar." Stone laughs and the Doctor huffs as Stone cuts them both a generous slice of cake, which is revealed to be lemon raspberry under the icing. He doesn't even know where they may be near that raspberries are even in season right now, but they must be for how flavorful this is.
With sufficient cake devoured for now, the Doctor makes a few presses into his control gloves to summon back some of the other badniks to clean of the food and store the cake back away, not ready to go back down into the crab. Sunrise is still a ways off and the stars shine bright alongside the gentle light of the moon. They might as well milk this date for all they can while the mood is right.
Stone makes a surprised squawk as the Doctor manhandles them into the cuddling position he wants. Stone behind him with the Doctor resting between his legs, leaning back against the other's chest. Stone moves to wrap his arms around the Doctor, resting them on his plush stomach as they both look upwards at the sky. The Doctor very carefully slips his gloves off, setting them on the blanket to the right of their knees so he can rest his hands on Stone's, interlacing their bare fingers together, feeling his face flush at the skin to skin contact like he always does.
Stone speaks low and soft directly into his ear as they talk about everything from the stars and constellations to the anticipated stock market drops. The push and pull of the ocean gently rocking the crab and the ambient music keeping this space so intimately theirs.
Maybe crab top date nights to watch the stars needs to become part of their routine, especially when they could compare how things look in the different hemispheres and parts of the globe. Scientific discovery and research always did make the best cover for their romance after all.
