Chapter Text
Partners, colleagues, co-workers, comrades, good friends are all titles that could never quite fully explain the relationship between the Ninth Fatui Harbinger and the Second Fatui Harbinger.
Even amongst the Harbingers the pair were outcasts.
The Second was a well known outcast - feared by the organisation. Afterall, many found him offputting, strange and countless rumors were spread about the blood curdling screams from his underground lab. He was a strange man, a man not even his own colleagues could bear to spend time with. However, there was one colleague who found the Second just fascinating and that was the Ninth. Perhaps this was why the Ninth was too pushed aside by his fellow comrades.
Neither cared that they were two odd ducklings within the Fatui for they had their partnership. All they needed were each other, for deep down they were as similar as they were unique. Two sides of the same coin.
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The morning had been slow for the Regrator. Fresh snow clung to the two grand windows in his office within the palace, the windows fogged slightly from the temperature shifts of the warm office and the icy weather outside.
The morning had almost been too peaceful for the Regrator, no debtors begging at his feet, no angry yelling from the Marrionette about being short of funding, no soft tunes from the Damselette in the halls. It was too quiet for the banker's liking, he had almost grown used to the noise of the palace.
He looked down at the paperwork on his desk, eyes half-lidded and relaxed as Pantalone left a soft cursive signature which soon grew to a rapid halt which ruined the soft hand-writing.
“REGRATOR.” A voice would yell out, door swinging open.
Pantalone looked up, a calm expression despite the angry motions of the door and yell. In front of him stood a shorter man, his hair long and messy and a teal blue. A long and stained lab-coat hung round the doctor's slim build. The Banker continued to keep a calm expression on his face as the angered man stormed over towards the desk. A loud thud came as two hands slammed down onto the desk, their owner leaning down with his beaked mask mere inches away from the Regrator’s perfectly powdered nose.
“I am not happy with you, Regrator.” The Doctor snarled, his breath stunk of some type of strong coffee from Sumeru.
“Whatever for, my darling?” Pantalone’s response was calm, him setting his pen down on his desk and remaining settled comfortably in his chair.
“Wellll…” Il Dottore stood up right, furthering the distance between the two of them as he began to rant. Just by the drawn out tone the Doctor had said the word, Pantalone was well aware that whatever this was - it was going to be a long one. “I was in my laboratory, working on a scientific breakthrough–” Pantalone nodded as the doctor began his rant, “WHEN…tskkk.. That damned. ..the SEVENTH!”
“Sandrone?” Pantalone corrected, he was well aware of the Doctor’s lack of care when it came to remembering his co-workers. He remembered he in fact did once ask Dottore why he did such a thing, the Doctors response was a simple - “I have better things to remember than the names of my insect co-workers.” So utterly in-character for the Doctor.
“Yes..yes..” the Doctor waved a dismissive hand as he began to pace back and forth in front of the beautiful, mahogany wood desk. “She ..just BURST IN! Ruined my experiment requiring the cover of darkness to activate. I MEAN! THE GALL! It had taken me forever to set up the perfect ratio to get the chemicals to react in just a way that would create a spectacle to the eyes in the dark, glowing ..RADIANT EVEN!” the Doctor spoke with his hands as he paced, arms flailing about dramatically. “It would have been even a more effective format for lanterns as the chemicals could burn indefinitely and she RUINED IT! That DAMNED ROBOT RUINED IT!” as he went on his voice grew closer and closer to a shout.
Pantalone sighed, looking down at his work and flicking a page in his logbook. “Doctor, dearest, you are going off topic.” He took a moment to bring Dottore back to the subject at hand rather than his experiment, the Regrator was well aware of his beloved's habit of going on tangents.
“Right.. Right..” the Doctor grumbled, baring those yellowed serrated teeth. “Well she comes in.. she's bragging. Something about her funding, I did not listen to it all I must admit. That is when she just shoves a hefty stack of paper in front of me …naturally my eyes skim read the papers she shoved in my fa–”
“Dear, do not tell me you are mad at me regarding the Marrionatte’s funding?” Pantalone cut the Doctor off, shimmering golden eyes glancing up at the blue-haired man.
“No no.. I am well aware what she got is far under what you treat me to, dear. That is not what I'm angry about.” The doctor paused his pacing, leaning back down on the desk. “I am angry at WHAT was being funded. I noticed that the item that was being funded was a research facility in Nod-Krai.” His expression, or what could be seen of it under that beaked mask, grew unpleasant with anger. “I am just so annoyed with you my dearest, last i demanded a facility over in Nod-Krai you claimed I did not need such a facility, claiming I already had facilities in–”
“Mondstadt has two, Liyue has three, Inzauma has one, Fontaine has two and I can not even begin to wonder how much I have funded for facilities in Natlan, Snezhnaya and Sumeru. All in which you do not use, dear.” Pantalone closed his logbook, staring down the Doctor's mask with a stern expression. The type of expression an angry parent would give their child who broke something.
“I USE THEM PLENTY!” he yelled in response and now closed the little distance that was between them so that he was practically breathing down Pantalones neck. “Alpha practically LIVES in Mondstadt with his little robotic experiments”
“And thank the Tsarista he does because that makes two facilities that are not sitting, collecting dust. Archons, he even manages to create profit with those experiments of his!” Pantalone scoffed, leaning back in his chair. The Doctor’s mouth drew to an awfully thin line in response before he shot back and resumed his angry yelling and demands that HE get a research facility in Nod-Krai as well which only forced the Regrator to retaliate with such a tone.
The shouting match went on for at least 2 hours and it would've continued on much longer were they not interrupted by Pantalone’s assistant.
“Lord Regrator, the business men from Fontaine’s branch are here.” The woman clutched a clipboard, clearly shaking at the mere presence of the Doctor, let alone the prior knowledge he had been yelling at her boss. She bowed her head, gesturing to the two men standing beside her. Pantalone sighed, standing as he fixed his hair and clothes. His hand hovered behind the Doctor's waist and guided him past the two men and out of his office.
“We shall continue our conversation later, Doctor. I have work to attend to.”
And just like that, Dottore found himself standing outside the shut office door and looking around at the Regrators various staff doing their jobs. A low scoff came out of his throat as he stormed through the offices and retreated to his underground laboratory.
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It was now late evening, the afternoon snow settled across the courtyards of Zapolyarny Palace. Dottore was sitting at his desk that hid within the deepest layers of the palace’s underground laboratory, heavy boot tapping against the hard wood of his office floor. Opposite Dottore sat a younger boy, no older than perhaps eighteen or nineteen, his hair was short and unruly, curious and calculating red eyes watching Dottore’s foot tap and his gloved hands fidget incessantly with a cube. The cube was a children's toy popular within Sumeru and Fontaine that was able to form all types of complex shapes and patterns.
“You seem … frustrated, Prime.” The boy finally spoke with a rather flat and observational tone.
“Frustrated? I am far more than just frustrated. The gall of Pantalone –” Dottore threw the cube onto the desk, flopping back angrily into his chair. “The Seventh received a Nod-Krai facility whilst my dear Regrator refuses to give “us” one.” Beta’s expression grew just as frustrated as his creators upon learning the truth.
“That slimy little bi– ”
“Slimy little what, dear Beta?” A smooth voice came from behind. Pantalone would wander closer to the desk, tucking his own personal key to every inch of the maze Dottore called his laboratory somewhere within his ridiculously impractical coat. His smile was soft, enchanting even, as he leaned down to Beta who had gone ghost pale at the voice.
“Mr Regrator..”
“Hmm… talking about me behind my back?” those beautifully golden eyes gazed softly at Beta before glancing over at Dottore “I thought you found yourself above idle gossip, Doctor.”
“Tskk.. A word was not said by me.”
Pantalone peered down at Beta, now effectively ushering him out of the small office. “Are the segments not also you?”
“Of course they are me.”
“Then a word was indeed said by you, just not you.” His smile softened once they were alone and he took his seat, Pantalone ensured to avoid the mess of piling blueprints, cups, trinkets and abandoned projects as he sat. One leg elegantly fell over the other, his violet and charcoal cane resting against the Doctor’s unkept desk.
“You have a point, yes. Why are you here, Regrator.”
“Can’t a man enjoy his beloved's company?” Pantalone sighed lightly, raising his hands playfully. Of course there was much more to this visit. “Idle chatter aside, I promised we would continue this afternoon's conversation once my work had been attended to.” In response from the Doctor all Pantalone received was a long suck on those serrated teeth of his and a dramatic sink into his desk chair. “..oh do not sulk, dear.”
“I want a Nod-Krai facility, Lone.”
“I can not get you a Nod-Krai facility in this moment.”
“Why?”
“You would forget about it when bored, run off when your next experiment takes your fancy. I know you well dear.”
“Too well.” The Doctor turned his head up, staring up at the ceiling from behind his beaked mask. “Can you not even let me share a sector of.. Of..”
“Sandrone?”
“Yes. Sandrones facility.”
“Ah.. I am afraid ..” Pantalone began, standing as he wandered over to Dottore’s chair to sit comfortably on the arm of the chair. “.. I am afraid her contract does not allow such an accommodation.” He tilted his head, a hand reaching up the Doctor’s face and removing the mask. Underneath the infamous beaked mask was a man with greyed skin and horrific scarring that ran across his left eye and the left of his face. One wine red eye and one mechanical teal eye gazed up at Pantalone, their gaze lingering on the Bankers perfect curls, his perfect pale skin, his soft smile and those eyes. Golden eyes, the same golden as the Doctor’s preferred jewellery or the same golden of the Mora that the man above worked with day in and day out.
“That is a ridiculous accommodation.” Dottore finally responded, a soft blue eyebrow forming into a frown on the side of his face where hair could still grow.
“I agree, ridiculous. However, you are well aware of this fact but the other Harbingers can not tolerate you like I do.” Pantalone shook his head softly, soft curls following the movement. “I do plan on still giving you an accommodation, although.”
“How so? I can not have the facility I have wanted for years.”
“Oh dear Doctor, for all your intelligence you can be quite hopeless at times.” Pantalone chuckled lightly, a gloved hand moving up to Dottore’s scarred cheek as his thumb ran up and down his collarbone. The glove was smooth against the Doctor’s dry and tight skin, silk. The Regrator adored items of luxury such as silk and flaunting it through his wardrobe. Silver rings were cold against the Doctor’s cheek yet he leant into the touch all the same, a soft expression on his usually unreadable face. “I can tell your mood is still foul from your request being denied not only just now but also earlier, so allow me to settle your mood.”
“I dislike those dinner arrangements you drag me on, Lone.”
“Oh, do not be so silly, Zandik! Taking you out on a dinner date in such a mood like this would be a catastrophe. Come, retreat from your little maze and accompany me home.”
“I am not in the mood for a sexual encounter either” His head remained leant into the soft touch and yet through the softness of his posture and face a lingering frustration could be seen right through the Doctor’s human eye.
“Whoever said the proposal was sexual? There is more to couples than sexual encounters and dinner dates, we have been an item for quite some time dearest. Just earlier we had an argument, couples do also argue.” Pantalone laughed softly, “You are truly helpless sometimes. Now come, we can settle in a softer manner, perhaps a warm bath and some wine in bed.”
“Ah, yes I forget that such an activity is one performed by mates. It is so engraved within our routine.”
“Must you be so logical with our relationship, now come, do the courtesy of letting me fix that little mood of yours.”
After the comment, Pantalone’s other hand tapped the tip of the Doctor’s hooked, wonky nose before he leant down to leave a soft and gentle kiss on the bridge of that very nose. Soon after, the taller man came to a stand and guided Dottore through his own laboratory to the usual carriage he took home that awaited them outside. As time went on the Doctor would slowly slip out of his mood, nodding along as Pantalone ranted about his day and the helpless men from earlier’s meeting.
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The Doctor and the Banker could never be summed up into one word, for they would bicker like co-workers forced to work together in the afternoon only to then melt into the softness of a married couple within the comfort of privacy and the evening. The pair were outcasts, two odd ducklings who stuck together despite the shifts and turns within their dynamic. Although, that is all they needed.
The Doctor and his Banker. The Banker and his Doctor.
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