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Having a heretical scientist as a husband certainly has its ups and downs.
For example, the doctor was prone to making him little gifts - enhanced glasses, a luxurious cane, an attempt to make 'safe' cigarettes - they were all awfully sweet material gestures that warmed Pantalone's greedy heart. The segments rotating their date nights also kept things fresh and new truly never allowing for a stale moment in their relationship, it was a system that quite literally worked for centuries. This is all to say, marrying Dottore certainly had its benefits.
However, it was moments like these, Pantalone thought to himself as he was herded into the lab by numerous excited segments, where the faults of their union lay bare.
The banker had been mid-meeting with an investor when he had been all but kidnapped by these jittery segments, one going so far as to hold him by the shoulders as he walked - or more accurately stumbled - towards the lab.
"Darlings is this all truly necessary, surely you could have waited those extra 5 minutes for me to conclude that meeting." Pantalone sighed, pure exasperation on his face as he watched the segments shake their head and mutter amongst themselves. Pantalone could practically hear the coins clinking away from him when the investor got rather abruptly thrown out.
It was fine, he would simply not grant Dottore's next few funding requests to make up for the loss.
Soon he found himself pushed through the boundary of the lab, using his cane to catch himself as he whipped around to glare at the segments behind him.
"Ahem-" one of the older segments coughed to get his attention, taking long confident strides his way as he settled a hand on Pantalone's lower back.
"Feofan my sweet darling, we have a lovely surprise for you." He spoke, guiding Pantalone deeper into the lab.
Pantalone's eyes lit up, he truly loved the gifts Dottore provided. The doctor had mastered the art of gift giving over the centuries, learning to create the perfect mesh of practicality and luxury that the banker adored.
"A surprise you say?" Pantalone chuckled, his previous expression of annoyance fading into something much more eager and soft, "Pray tell why are you in such a rush to give it to me?" He prodded, the excitement from the surrounding segments becoming utterly infectious.
The doctor simply chuckled and shook his head, finger raised cheekily to his lips as he continued to urge his lover forward.
He was led into a rather large section of the lab, tubes and wires extending from gods know where and accumulating at the centre, bright harsh synthetic lights making it so someone a near blind as Pantalone could see the scene clearly.
Many segments had flocked to this room, oohing and ahhing at whatever it was that lay in its centre.
Pantalone was pushed forward once more, closer and closer to the pinpoint of the segment herd before stopping abruptly.
There, floating in a conspicuous vat in a mysterious blue liquid was what Pantalone could only assume was a fetus.
"Is that a fucking baby?" Pantalone gaped, ignoring the indignant gasps the segments let out at his profanity.
"Not just any 'fucking baby' my love, that's our 'fucking baby." The segment behind him delighted, hands clasped tightly at Pantalone's shoulders. The dichotomy of it all would've made any other person laugh, the jubilant, excited expressions of the segments as they jittered and jostled around in glee, and Pantalone's feet glued to the ground, mouth agape.
"You made a baby - our baby - and you didn't think to consult me beforehand?" Pantalone eventually managed to spit out, his fingers twitching as they tightly gripped his cane, most of his weight now relying on the thing as the room swayed around him.
"Hmm? But that would ruin the surprise." Dottore teased, though the words didn't reach Pantalone's ears, not with the way a ringing began to buzz through them, world blurring ever so slightly,"so what do y- Feonfan!"
Pantalone collapsed onto the ground, the last thing he registered being the concerned and panicked squawks of the segments running his way.
When he awoke he was not greeted with those blaring artificial lights and concrete walls, no he was back in their chambers soft candlelight illuminating the plush velvet and smooth silks that decorated the room. He had been changed into his nightclothes and put into bed, the culprit of these actions lying happily behind him as he hummed and played with the banker's hair.
"Awake?" Dottore murmured, Pantalone responding with a tired hum, sighing as he sank into the warmth of his husband's skin.
"Zandik darling I just had the most absurd dream, you had gone and made a child of our own out of the blue," Pantalone muttered into Dottore's chest, the doctor's hand pausing in their soothing movements of stroking his hair,
"Ah, yes. Well about that-" Dottore started, nervously chuckling and stuttering ever so slightly. Pantalone stiffened, rising to study his husband's face before barking out a quick cold laugh.
"Oh. May the Tsarista herself help me, it was no dream was it? Celestia above Zandik go fetch me a cigarette- no actually get a pack." Pantalone pushed himself off the doctor, flopping rather dramatically onto the empty side of their bed and screaming into the pillow.
"Yes, my love," Zandik spoke obediently, shooting up to retrieve what was requested.
When he returned, pack in hand, Pantalone whipped his head towards him with a scowl," How did you even get the DNA needed from me- actually no don't answer that. Why on earth did you make a baby Zandik?"
"Because I can." He answered.
The topic of that fetus in a vat became a point of contention for the following days, not only had Dottore made the thing ("it's a girl" Zandik had said at one point as though it would change his mind on the matter) without any prior consultation, but he had wanted Pantalone to carry the damn thing as though he were a mother.
"It wouldn't even be the full 9 months, we'll look after you so you needn't worry about such trivial things." Dottore had slurred lazily one day from across the room where he had been kicked out of bed.
"I wouldn't call this matter trivial Zandik." Pantalone spat, turning so he no longer could see the man.
And so the two bickered for an awful long time, this had the unfortunate impact of Pantalone feeling rather lonely. Looking at his husband made him rage and so he took to avoiding him for the time being, but well the two had been wed for a reason, Feofan did love the man. So their time apart (albeit self-inflicted) had left him restless and awfully alone.
For the longest time - literal centuries - Dottore had been his only companion and his only family. It may have been that very loneliness that ushered him towards that very thing that started it all.
Taking advantage of the monthly segment meeting Pantalone made his way into the desolate lab, stopping at that damned vat. That disgraceful, heretical mockery of life floating so blissfully unknowing of the grief it had caused. That thing - no that girl - could be Pantalone's family too. It would no longer just be him and his doctor, no it would be them and their daughter.
Pantalone rubbed at the bridge of his nose before letting out a frustrated sigh and storming towards the meeting room. He swung the doors open with more violence than necessary, the segments' chatter stopping to a halt as they all turned to blink owlishly at him.
"I'll carry the fucking baby." Pantalone spat out, turning on his heel and stalking out of the laboratory as the cheers of the segments echoed around him. He could even distantly hear a couple of segments weeping from sheer joy, but for his own sanity, he chose to ignore that.
"Honestly, I must be getting sentimental with age." He mumbled to himself, though here alone as he walked down the corridors he smiled to himself, a hand coming down to touch gently at his stomach.