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This is unbelievable.
You can't keep the grin off of your face. It's been a long long day in the lab for you...but it's clearly been a longer one for Grace. You've just found evidence of him making a mistake - one he swore up and down that he had never made, and would never make.
Your hands skim over the plastic lid of the electrophoresis tray in awe. The exact science here is irrelevant; the important thing is that someone has inserted the wires into the tray the wrong way around, causing all of the sample to scoot merrily off the gel intended to hold it.
"From black to red or your gel is dead, they drilled it into me in undergrad-" He'd always say, tutting when you asked him for the umpteenth time to check your own gels. It was more out of paranoia than anything - sometimes these things could take hours to set up. Grace had always been happy to help, always adamant that he'd never done it the wrong way around, despite it practically being a rite of passage for every molecular biologist.
And here it was: his time had finally come, one PhD and a suicide mission later.
"Oh, Maryyy~" You make sure the onboard camera is pointing at you.
Ryland lifts his head from the laptop at your tone, bemused.
"...What is it? ...wait, why are you grinning like that-"
"Maaarry, start recording, I need to keep this for posterity-"
"Recording started."
Grace's eyes dart from your face to the camera on the wall, and then down to the bench. The cogs turn for a second - and then, horror.
"No."
You nod.
"No, no, nope-" He stalks over. You lean back to let him see the complete absence of stained DNA on the gel. There's a pause as he stares, dumbfounded. You notice a slight twitch in one of his hands, and you instantly know what he's about to do.
He lunges to cover the evidence. Fortunately, you're faster- you step in front, blocking his reach but not the camera's view of his handiwork.
"MARY, STOP RECORDING- DO NOT-" Grace splutters, shoving at your shoulders. You shift the equipment further towards the wall, and start calmly extracting the gel from its equipment. If you suspend it in the appropriate buffer, maybe you can preserve it in a jar...as a reminder. The ship could do with some more decorating. Your brain runs through the practicalities of keeping agarose gels long-term.
Ryland, meanwhile, runs through every PG-13 insult known to man.
"Fudging - give it BACK, you JERK-" He swats at your arms. Ignoring this tantrum, you lovingly place the gel onto some tissue to dry off, and turn to face him. It is important that you see the look on his face for this.
"And behind us, dear viewers, you will see clear evidence that Doctor Ryland Grace, 33.33% of humanity's last hope, does not know how to load a gel-"
"Ohoho, you're in for it now-"
He redoubles his efforts, trying to stretch over you so he can bin the evidence. In your peripheral vision, you spot Rocky enter the room with an amused trill. He has probably heard the conversation and wishes to have a clearer view of whatever comes next. Better make sure the spectacle continues, then.
"-despite repeatedly claiming that he would never make such a silly mistake-" You press on, cackling at the frustrated noise your lecture draws out of Grace.
"Grace makes silly mistake all the time. It is no surprise he has done this."
"Correct, Rocky - Hey, Ryland! Don't destroy the evidence, I need to frame it!"
Grace ignores you - he's not going to stop until he's snatched that gel from its little tissue paper bed. You won't tolerate that.
He reaches over again, still failing to cover the distance. This is an easy opening; an opportunity to match his energy that you can't refuse.
Without a second thought, you dart your hand under his outstretched arm, and wiggle your fingers.
Ryland folds, shrinking away with a screech.
You laugh at the wounded look on his face. He glares.
"Okay, that's it-"
What happens next is a bit of a blur - you know that Ryland makes one last scramble for the gel, and you know that Mary starts her usual spiel about conflict de-escalation, and you know that Rocky scuttles over, shouting something about not wanting anyone to get hurt. You don't really hear much of it though, because immediately after blocking Grace's lunge, he resorts to vibrating his fingers into your ribcage. Your hands reach out to retaliate, and both of you fall to the floor in an undignified pile of giggles and swearing.
"Let me hahave this!" You protest, trying not to reward Grace with a reaction as he trails his fingers over your tummy. He's sat over your legs, torso within easy reach - you take your chance, and squeeze at his stomach in return. You're immediately rewarded with a wide grin and an abundance of cackles.
"You lihittle-BUGGER-" Grace has folded over above you, making it even easier for you to keep tickling. You draw circles around his navel that make him go limp with laughter.
"I'm glad we're recording this, you're being adorable," You tease.
"MARY! MARY-!" He shrieks, hands struggling to keep prodding your sides. "DELEHETE RECORDING- NOHO-"
"Dohon't listen to him, Mary," You speak calmly over Grace, shifting one hand to tickle his ears and grinning when he becomes conflicted over which spot he should be defending. "In fact, make three backups."
"Backup in progress," She chirps.
Ryland is too far gone to do anything about this - you snort at the way he's blushing, trying to hide his face in your neck, and- oh no.
...He's not hiding.
The sound of him taking in a deep breath, paired with the light brush of his stubble, is the only warning you have for the horrific raspberry Ryland blows against your neck.
It's awful - the sensation completely shortcircuits your brain, your arms turning to jelly as all your body can do is scream it tickles it tickles it tickles. You don't even have the wherewithal to moderate your reactions, loud belly laughter flowing into the lab before you can think to tamper it. Somehow, you've managed to keep tickling Grace, which is... not helping, actually, because he keeps laughing through the raspberry. Which tickles more.
"Oh no no no. This is bad for you." Rocky observes, ever helpful.
Then, finally - it's over. Ryland has to take a breath. You move as fast as you can, rolling out from under him to trap him in a hug. With no time to waste, you return the favour, leaning in and blowing a raspberry of your own.
"WAITwaitwait-" He squeals, then wheezes, then giggles. It's incredibly endearing.
"Nope!" You pull away, hands squeezing at his sides. Grace scrambles to get up off the floor, and you follow, backing him against the counter. He shoots you a nervous grin, and you don't give him time to do anything more than that - you crawl your hands upwards, to his highest ribs, and wriggle in the space between the bones. Grace leans forwards, head resting on your shoulder as he laughs, the occasional snort punctuating his high-pitched wheezing.
And then, like clockwork, the revenge arrives - through his laughter, Ryland's hands creep over your torso, scritching gently at your sides. Soon, both of you are doubled over against the other, fighting to gain the upper hand.
"Ha- I'm keeping that gel!"
"You are NOHOT!"
"I absolutely am!" You're about to explain why, too, when Grace shoves his hands under your arms, and you start sinking down.
"Rocky think you are losing. Grace making you laugh a lot. Keeping gel is...unlikely."
Well, isn't that nice?
"He's right, you know. Gihive it up and I'll go easier on you. Maybe." The smug tone in Grace's voice makes you renew your efforts out of spite, fingers finding purchase on his sides. It's not enough, though - you both return to the floor, and Ryland swiftly pins your arms above your head.
"Rocky, Rohocky help-" You kick out your legs and shoot him a pleading look.
"No, Rocky not help. Last time Rocky help, Grace figured out Eridian tickling. Is too high risk."
Grace chuckles at that, and gives Rocky a warning look. "Wise decision, bud."
He turns back to face you, a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flip in anticipation.
"Now, I'm gonna count to five, and if you agree to never speak of this again, I won't tickle you. Sound good?"
You shake your head.
"Fuck you."
It goes very, very quiet.
Okay, maybe that wasn't the smartest idea.
Ryland traces a lazy path over your stomach that makes your breath hitch, and leans in, muttering a single word.
"Language."
All hell breaks loose. His hands poke and prod and squeeze erratically over your torso, each touch designed to gauge your reaction before moving onto the next spot.
"Ha-Ryland- no!" Through your hysterics, you can see him logging the way his movements make you squirm.
He doesn't stop - rather, decides to make things worse. "Why, does it tickle?"
Oh god.
"Shut UP, you PRICK-" Swearing has done wonders for you so far. Surely more is the answer here.
"Ohoho, you've gone so red," He chuckles, thumb drilling into your second rib. "Don't like when I say that, huh?"
You are rapidly losing your ability to speak, and there's a growing warmth on your cheeks that you suspect is a blush.
"Alright, so we know this tickles," He murmers, breath tickling your ear. His hand moves higher, under your arm.
"Doesss this tickle?"
You blindly nod your head yes, hoping he'll move spots. Instead, he changes tact, his touch becoming lighter. Your laugh becomes a lot squeakier.
"I can't hear you," He grins. "Does it tickle?"
"I'm-" You grit your teeth. "I'm going to kill you-"
The laughter he's drawing from you is out of control, and just forming those words takes monumental resolve.
Grace doesn't have any issues talking, though - content with the shade of red he's turned you, he switches to providing a running commentary.
"And here, dear viewers," He smirks, scribbling over a spot near your hips that makes your back arch, "You will see clear evidence that the other 33.33% of humanity's last hope is hopelessly ticklish."
"Grahace! GRACE!" You yelp, using your feet to try and slide backwards along the floor. Ryland follows, of course, highly amused by the theatrics.
"Yeah?" He grins, slowing slightly.
You try to wipe the smile from your face, but it's stuck firm.
"I cahan't-"
"Can't what? Can't talk? I noticed." He lets your hands go, probably out of pity, but walks two fingers over your stomach just to keep you guessing. It's enough to keep you giggling in anticipation.
"Okay, okay, you win-" You gasp, trying to sit up and shuffle away.
"Oh, I do, do I? Thank you for pointing that out." Grace laughs, adjusting his glasses, which have nearly fallen off in the scuffle. He takes pity on you though, and offers a hand to help you up.
"Whatever. Mary, delete recording," You mutter, taking the offered assistance.
"Recording deleted."
"Appreciated," Ryland gives you a cordial nod, heading over to the bench.
"...Wait, where's the gel?"
"...Humans were taking too long fighting. Got bored."
"Rocky-"
"Grace pipetting technique bad bad bad. Gel punctured in several areas." Rocky holds up the agarose, which is now housed in a beautiful xenonite case. He's even had the time to fill it with the appropriate solution. Maybe you did take too long.
"Oh, for goodness' sake-" Ryland puts his head in his hands. "Fine, keep it. But we are never talking about this again."
"Don't need to. We keep next to gel area. Reminder."
"Excellent idea," You grin, still holding onto a nearby table for support.
"From now on," Grace points at you, "I'm not checking your gels for you."
"Good, I mean...You can't exactly be trusted anymore, can you?"
He raises his eyebrow at you. It's a challenge, daring you to say another word. His fingers twitch, almost imperceptibly. The message is loud and clear: Do you really want to do this again?
Alright, maybe not today. You'll give it a few days before teasing Ryland about it.
After all, you never deleted the backup videos. You'll be needing those.