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Polaris woke at 7 a.m. on the dot every morning, which could be interpreted as a steadfast work ethic or simply necessary for their job. They had their tasks to ensure their boss’s morning ran smoothly and their own personal items to tick off their do-to list.
On this day, there was a mission that put a fork in their schedule.
Going on a mission was no sweat for the talented doll, but being off their stringent plans threw off their groove and in the morning rush, they had forgotten part of their routine, as if it had been suddenly demoted from second nature.
Spandam grew grouchier without his specially-brewed morning cup of coffee. He had missed the short, sweet conversations he shared with his subordinate over the energizing aroma. Instead, he could only fill the silence with tracing his finger around the lip of a mug of drink he did not want. His eyes tried to keep to the boring paperwork, but they were continually drawn to a small transponder snail at his desk, its eyes closed in a peaceful manner.
He knew there were a couple agents going with Polaris and he grinded his teeth at the thought of how much time Polaris spent with everyone but him in CP9.
The masked man wouldn’t last a day in the other agents’ shoes, but he daydreamed at his desk of just the two of them, traversing dangers alongside the doll he liked. He pictured him slashing through greenery with Polaris shielded behind him, pushing through the unknown to enemy territory. In his head, he possessed not a clumsy bone in his body, holding Polaris against his chest by the waist as he cut down every last person with Funkfreed.
In his mind, Spandam was at least ten times his strength, lifting Polaris into the air like a dancer. He didn’t allow – no, didn’t need – Polaris’s strength to save either of them.
But that would never happen.
He was knocked out of his trance unintentionally, groaning after Polaris’s face vanished from his fantasy. Once he was out of it, it was like startling from a dream and wanting to reawaken it – gaining momentum was impossible.
Kaku and Kumadori carried out their roles during the field mission swiftly, not sticking around one post for too long. They had made it back to their caravan, silently sitting with their arms crossed, before concern pricked at them over Polaris’s delay.
In their early days training to be an agent, Polaris needed the supervision, but now, they’ve had plenty of practice to carry out a mission not deemed particularly challenging.
As time ticked on, Kaku finally decided to make a phone call.
“Chief Spandam, it’s for you.”
Disgruntled, he snatched the handset from the transponder snail provided by a marine, pressing the receiver to his ear. “What, what is it?!”
“Chief–” Kaku’s voice came through in a crackle, which Spandam didn’t like, “–we’ve run into a bit of a problem.”
It was Kaku. Not Polaris. Spandam heard his teeth grinding again before he realized he was even doing it, inhaling sharply.
“It’s Polaris,” he continued. “We don’t know where they are.”
Spandam fumbled the handset with a yelp, scaring the marine holding the snail. He used both hands to secure the receiver to his ear. “What do you mean?! Go find them!”
“We were instructed to leave in the next five minutes,” Kaku said. “Wasn’t sure if that was protocol, given the mission’s circumstances.”
Kaku was right. Spandam had told them to be back at a prompt time, which aligned with his own orders he received as the leader of CP9.
Spandam tapped his fingers against the back of the handset, still cradling it against his face.
What was he supposed to do?
Spandam swallowed, coughed, and then cleared his throat.
“Come back to headquarters,” he barked before slamming the handset back onto the transponder snail.
He narrowed his eyes at the helpless marine before him.
“What’re you standing around like that for?!” Spandam shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Get me a private team of marines! Now!”
He told Kaku, Kumadori, and Polaris to return by a certain time, but nothing said he couldn’t travel to the mission site himself.
With five bodyguards, Spandam arrived at the location.
The drive was filled with Spandam’s yammering, micromanaging every soldier in the caravan ordered to guard him with spastic movements that resulted in minor injuries to himself. He was panicking, which even his bodyguards got the impression of without the context.
Spandam pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with a badly-drawn graph on it. It was his handiwork – something he traced at his desk while his bodyguards gathered. He was glad that a decision he had unsurely made the night before provided a clear path for where he could find Polaris.
While looking at his map, Spandam instructed those assisting him in this direction and that, waving his hand around anxiously.
Spandam stopped at a tree, running a hand over unnatural markings indicating a fight. With this evidence, it was easier for the six of them to follow signs to what may be Spandam’s agent.
“Chief Spandam, up ahead!” one of the marines announced, pointing straight ahead.
He didn’t falter to peek around the man, instead pushing him aside and crashing through the brush until he saw the limp body of Polaris, strewn out in an awkward position on their backside. It was clear they had gotten into a fight, a bit scuffed up, but there weren’t any visible, grave injuries.
Spandam ran into a kneel, forgoing any concern for his safety or appearance. He grabbed them by the waist, sliding his hand to their back. When his gloved fingers met the spot for their turnkey, a lump caught in his throat.
The marines trailed, making it to the two CP9 members with evidence of concern touching their hardened expressions.
Without looking at the marines, Spandam screamed, his frustration directed toward them. “What are you idiots gawking at?! Get a mechanic, now!”
“A mechanic, sir?”
Spandam’s hands shook as he pulled Polaris against his lap, turning them over slightly to reveal their backside. The turnkey was half buried in the dirt, the jagged remains of the turnkey’s neck jammed into its spot.
“Get a mechanic, now, or you’re all fired!” he shrieked. “All of you!”
Confusion remained on their faces, but they turned around and ran off, save for one of them. In spite of the orders given, he watched over the two silently, staying alert for dangers.
Spandam crouched over Polaris’s form, pressing his hand to the turnkey’s hole like an open wound. “Polaris?! Can you move?!”
Polaris wheezed, slender fingers gathering parts of Spandam’s shirt in their hands. “I-I… there’s not much time…”
“Not much time?!” Spandam exclaimed. “What?? What?! What is it, what happened?! What needs to happen?!”
“I-I killed the enemy, but they threw me… hard,” Polaris answered, each word chosen carefully with their unsteady breath. “I…”
“I-I can carry you to the caravan!” Spandam proclaimed, shifting to a new position as he began pulling the doll more securely in his arms.
Polaris shook their head as hard as they could, wincing as their body was moved.
“N-no, Chief Spandam,” they resisted. “Listen.”
Spandam froze, relaxing them back to the ground.
“I’ve been here for too long like this,” they explained. “I need you to help me.”
“Help?! How?!?” Spandam said and, in that moment, realized he was being too loud for the situation, reeling his volume back. “I-I’m not a mechanic or a doctor!”
“I know,” Polaris sighed. “That doesn’t matter. I just need… someone who can follow simple instruction.”
Spandam took in a deep breath. Of course he could follow “simple instruction.”
“I need you to remove my top–”
Spandam’s face flushed instantly. He was cursing himself at such a childish reaction, as if the agent who brought a little light into his life wasn’t on the brink of something scary.
“–and press the button on my chestplate.”
Chestplate? Spandam couldn’t lie, he was curious of the doll’s exact makeup and had maybe imagined their skin under the dress enough times to count on one hand, but he didn’t consider buttons.
“Whatever, let me just s-save you,” Spandam stuttered, completely red in the face.
He felt their back once more, pinching the small zipper he was able to tug down, allowing more room for him to examine their subordinate’s button-down shirt. Spandam stuck his fingers inside the front of their shirt, pulling it apart rather than unbuttoning it.
The ticking from Polaris – which was more muffled than normal – piqued with Spandam’s hands on them. They were stammering, too, trying to get the following steps out of their mouth.
“Th-the button,” they breathed, trying to be steady. “Center of… collarbones.”
Spandam didn’t waste time jamming his finger against the button there, just as they said. With a slight creak, their chest split, the chestplate sliding out of the way of a mechanical cage just underneath its surface. What Spandam guessed was a heart was in the middle, behind bars. It throbbed to an erratic, quiet beat, Polaris’s body holding back convulsions.
“Okay, okay!” Spandam, elated at his work, looked between Polaris’s face and the inside of their chest. The initial embarrassment of stripping them down cleared, now looking into something very unlike the human body. This wasn’t exactly the setting he imagined them to be in while tearing their clothes off, but the order of their relationship proved unimportant already. None of it was traditional anyway. “Wh-what now?! What do I do?!”
“Turnkey broke so you have to… start the heart…” Polaris choked, fingers tightening over a ball they created with his shirt’s fabric. “Pl-please, I need you… to…”
Polaris’s voice faded, a light behind their eye struggling to stay lit.
“What?! What do I do?!” Spandam pleaded, one hand still on their back while the other felt around the metal cage.
“Movement…” Polaris drifted. “Heart… needs to move…”
Spandam had no idea what to do.
His hands and face grew sweatier under the leather. He felt for the sword at his hip with his right hand, having ideas that seemed too violent for who he wanted to consider delicate. Apparently, he needed the heart to move, and with the bars, there wasn’t a way for him to just grab and shake it around.
Unsheathing Funkfreed, Spandam spoke every worry in nonsensical ramblings under hot breath. He positioned the tip of the sword against Polaris’s open chest, hand trembling.
“If I just… nudge it or something…”
One of Polaris’s cold hands slid over his tense one around the sword handle. The touch didn’t loosen his hand, but helped steady it.
“Your sword won’t… pierce it,” they assured, losing strength in their feeble smile. “Go for it.”
Spandam nodded down at them, lip in a tight line. Using one of the cage’s bars, he had a guide to reach their heart.
Polaris’s breathing sped, then slowed as the tip of the sword grazed the mechanical heart to urge it to spin. The heaving sounds from Polaris were painful to Spandam’s ears.
His eyes focused on the heart through the bars, jumping to fearful frustration when Polaris wasn’t immediately better, the heart not catching a spin from the push.
“I-is it working?!” Spandam asked, unable to look up at their face. “Polaris?? Polaris, is it?!”
“M-more…” they breathed, their hand over Spandam’s, pulling the sword closer and with it the man’s figure.
Spandam’s eyes flickered to Polaris’s features that were much paler than before.
“Dammit, why are those useless buffoons taking forever!!” Spandam shouted. “Can’t they see we have a dying top agent on our hands?!?”
Jolting, Spandam felt another one of Polaris’s hands, but this time reaching all the way to his hair and skidding down to his neck. Afraid of losing their grasp, their fingers went rigid on the nape of his neck, forcing him down even closer. His stiff arm controlling the sword slackened slightly, not wanting to accidentally nick something not metal.
Polaris dragged Spandam down nearly flush to them, lips crashing into lips and hands holding onto one another like letting go meant goodbye.
Lost in the warmth between their bodies and whirring gears, Spandam lost hold of the sword, his hand falling onto the metal bars. His fingers locked onto the metal, pulling them closer to his own chest. Inside the chamber, heat tingled his fingertips.
Ticking reignited, rhythm inconsistent but audible. Polaris’s fingers were lost in lilac, their strength returning, but hand melting into the back of his head. Their heart ticking was familiar again to their own ear and while they were consumed in the kiss enveloping them both, Polaris couldn’t help but reflect on the morning that led to all of this.
Polaris inserted their turnkey upon waking up just before 7 a.m. and cranked it themself, but had completely forgotten to calibrate their heart with a press of the button on their chestplate to stabilize the process. After all the visits with mechanics, Polaris was surprised a little change in schedule completely wiped their memory of this important step.
Normally holding the button was enough, but when they fell and the turnkey snapped, the button jammed in the process. While calibration wouldn’t have prevented the snap of the turnkey, it would’ve helped to do things as intended, step by step.
They still needed to be seen by a professional, but for the moment, the adrenaline of Polaris’s lips against their boss’s was enough to spin their heart in circles.
The grip on the cage jerking closer to Spandam dissolved the internal kicking they had begun to dwell in, hearing the ticking in their metal and bones. He was not skilled with his hands and a bit sloppy with his mouth, but he was acting with a hungry desire that was doing things to the doll. Polaris’s face burned now, afraid that if this continued, they would be facing the opposite problem of a stuck heart.
Polaris gasped against Spandam’s mouth, pulling back for air. Spandam, lost in a blinding daze, shook his head and forced his attention back to their heart, grabbing at the bars. “Shit, shit!! D-did the sword do anything?!”
The both of them paused, listening to the confident ticking fill the silence.
“Y-yes,” Polaris sighed, closing their eyes with a gentle smile.
Spandam stood, almost falling over as he dusted off his pants. As Polaris closed their chestplate and pulled their top closed, their boss was working on picking them up. With wobbling legs, he put everything into lifting them, but their limbs gave way, falling back on top of Polaris.
Just in time, the marines who had left returned, wasting no time to bring the mechanic to the doll’s side for a speedy evaluation. Spandam found his footing again, removing himself from the situation. He crossed his arms, trying to appear aloof off to the side as he peered around marines to see Polaris.
Spandam’s eyes stabbed daggers into the one marine that stayed back to make sure they hadn’t been mauled by a bear or something.
“Pervert,” he muttered.
After the mechanic inspected Polaris’s backside, one of the marines scooped the doll up. As a group, they left with haste to the caravan.
It didn’t take long for the mechanic to see Polaris in their workshop, smithing a brand new turnkey out of a sturdier metal. It took Spandam by surprise the next morning when Polaris entered his office, coffee pot in hand.
“What are you doing up, Polaris?!” he blurted out, eyes big and observant.
Polaris slid across the floor to their boss’s side, picking up the mug on the corner of the desk.
“What do you mean, sir?” they asked, pouring the coffee. “I’m repaired and back in working condition. I don’t see what the problem is.”
They stood, back straight, holding the mug out for Spandam. It took him a contemplative moment of staring up at them before he snatched the mug – any faster and the coffee would’ve splashed against and over the sides.
“You need rest, too,” Spandam muttered, his concerns silenced by the coffee against his lips.
“Hm?” Polaris hummed, tilting their head.
Spandam glanced up, looking over the mug at Polaris’s soft features, bottom lip pushed out in a slight pout.
Polaris searched their boss’s face for meaning, witnessing the wrinkle between his eyebrows smooth out and eyes widen further.
That wasn’t their first kiss, but maybe one of their most memorable. The feeling that pulsated through Polaris’s metal and flesh was lifesaving, to be blunt about it. In the moment, they wanted to believe the kiss would stir their heart enough, but understandably, they had their doubts.
They were glad Spandam got lost in it, too, even if most would consider that careless.
Spandam put the coffee mug down on his desk. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”
Polaris giggled. “Me too.”
It was a tricky thing, their relationship. They both tiptoed around it while being disgustingly obvious about their shared feelings. When would they finally give in to the next step?
Polaris sighed, smiling at Spandam. “I should be off.”
He picked the mug back up, taking another sip and he nodded.
As Polaris headed to the door, they paused, glancing back over their shoulder.
“By the way, sir, how did you find me so fast?”
Spandam choked, coughing some of the coffee back into the mug. “H-huh?”
“Yesterday,” Polaris started. “I spoke to Kaku and Kumadori and they were surprised you found me when you did. I was just wondering if something gave my position away. If the enemy were to find some sort of hint of my whereabouts, that would prove deadly. So… I just wanted to make sure I’m covering my tracks.”
Spandom shook his head, raising a hand to stop them from continuing. “They must’ve been lying to you. They found you, but the deadline on the mission required the majority of you return at the determined time. That’s why I was called.”
Polaris couldn’t hide their confusion, using their free hand to cradle the coffee pot. They were thankful their emergency didn’t require a punishment for returning late and were unsure if pushing the topic would be wise, potentially stirring up unwanted attention.
Whatever the honest answer to their question was, they decided it could wait.
“Well… Thank you anyway for saving me, Spandam.”
They left, shutting the door quietly behind them.
“Yeah…”
Spandam’s eyes flickered to the transponder snail on his desk. Once he couldn’t hear the tapping of Polaris’s heels, he hit the snail, bringing up surveillance footage. In the fuzzy feed, he could make out the broken turnkey that was left behind at the mission location sight. He cursed under his breath, pressing some buttons to kill the feed.
“Saved you. Huh.”