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Honestly speaking, the day was already boring for 45, working down at the labs was no joke, especially since it was only him and 18. Hence, when he heard the patterned knocks on the door, he was more than happy that his beloved had arrived to take his mind off the failing experiment.
Believe me, if this were 35, he would've freaked and made Feofan wait till he had either completely failed, or turned the results around.
But this was 45, and for 45, no one really mattered more than his beloved. So 45 decided that he should finish up the medicine he was mixing so that he can let it simmer overnight, and asked 18 to open the door for him.
Feofan walked in, already looking like an angel…to 45 atleast. 45 and 65 were always a bit of romantics when it came to Feofan, it was during this time that they had named the relation they shared, before this, it was just “a friend”. 45 felt a little upset when Pantalone stopped his approach to talk to 18, who had opened the door for him. He could hear them from where he was adjusting the heat to the lowest to let his concoction simmer overnight.
“Oh, hello Zandik…what are you working on today? I thought you’d be up in your room.”
“Just finishing up a rewriting of an old report…had some things to add and edit some parts of the old one…the formatting wasn't…proper, I suppose”
“Oh? That's an interesting thing to do I'm sure” Pantalone chuckled as he made that caustic remark. 18 stared bashfully at the way Pantalone's hands clasped his.
“Alright, good luck with your writing work, I was here to talk to 45, don't let my presence bother you.”
“You'd never be a bother…” The younger version of himself whispered, so softly that the hard-of-hearing Pantalone barely caught on.
—————
Seeing his Feofan approach him instead of chatter mindlessly to his younger self was delighting. Moving away from the table so as to not knock over his actively heating concoction, he pressed a chaste kiss to his beloved's lips before greeting him.
“Morning, my love–”
“Morning? Dottore…how long has it been since you stepped out of these labs? It's nearly evening…”
“Oh, forget about that…what dragged you in here?”
“I'm sure 25 didn't inform any of you, but there was an interesting topic during the meeting. At the end of the week, the Harbingers are attending a play, ‘Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dying’ or something like that.
“And?”
“And, Our dearest Number 7, Sandrone, is going to attend too. I've already got tickets for the midnight show today.
“I insist you come so we can bother her on the day we go to watch the play with the Harbingers.”
“Now that's not something I can turn down, Feofan. Let me at least put on an inconspicuous coat rather than the official one.”
“Oh don't you worry, there's plenty of time, just make sure you don't zone out during the play.”
—————
By the time they reached, No one would be able to tell these two were Harbingers under the tsaritsa.
But that didn’t mean that they couldn't look rich…
Feofan insisted that he was dressed casually, while he smoothened his Premium Wool three piece suit, tailored personally by The Paragon (which was, again, a brand that would take a common person 20 years of constant work, to afford).
45 (he corrected himself, dottore is just dottore), on the other hand, wore his usual clothes, just swapping out the Fatui coat for a simple black coat, which he handed to the chauffeur halfway through the ride here because he didn't feel cold enough yet. If it was any other Harbinger in their normal clothes, they would've been recognized immediately. But this was Il Dottore, who never stepped out of his labs.
The play started, and the audience chuckled at Rosencrantz, who must've tossed the coin to heads about a million times now.
Feofan noticed Dottore zoning out, probably thinking about some other experiment of his own. He extended his hand over the armrest and pulled on The Doctor's sleeve, then held his hand, feeling the rough texture of his palm against his. Feofan wasn't one who judged, he honestly preferred Dottore's rough hands, just because they showed how hard his beloved was working.
Before both of them even noticed, the play ended. When they stepped out, feeling his own hand still in Dottore's, he felt immensely happy. Even if for a poor excuse of bothering their co-worker, he got to spend more time with his beloved.
—————
Right after the meeting, the Harbingers arrived at the Theater to watch the Korolevskiy Troupe perform the play.
Sandrone walked into the theater with Columbina and Arlecchino. Arlecchino and Columbina split from her side and into their own private viewing box, they were sitting with Rosaline and Capitano.
Sandrone had just torn her gaze from them and turned to her own seating when she paled. She turned back immediately, grabbing Columbina's hand.
“Columbina…Columbina, do you mind swapping with me…please?”
The Moon Goddess peeked from under her lace eyecover to look behind Sandrone and chuckled.
“Huh…well, I don't think I can, The Jester would be mad…”
It was a lame excuse, The Jester couldn't care less where the Harbingers were sitting, even Columbina knew it, so she smiled mischievously before fluttering off to Arlecchino's side.
Sandrone took a deep breath before she turned back, and instantly regretted everything she's done in life to get to this point.
The seating arrangement was simple, this special Viewing box was made with extra space, which is why it was often given to Sandrone so she can have Pulonia with her at all times. This viewing box had only four seats…
Pantalone and Dottore sat on the two seats behind, and Tartaglia sat beside Sandrone on her left…She already knew this was going to be hell, it can't be coincidence that she gets seated with Pantalone and Dottore all the time.
Sandrone seated herself in her place after she led Pulonia to his own space. Her seat was slightly shaking, looking at her side she saw the cause. Tartaglia looked like he was about to jump out of his seat and explode with excitement. When she asked him to stop squirming so much, he simply apologized and said that it's because his old schoolmate was going to be playing one of the leads, Rosencrantz.
“Hell…it's hell…my own personal hell” She thought to herself.
The play had barely begun, the two characters were still riding their horses, and all Sandrone could hear was the financial discussion that Pantalone was having with Dottore. Then, to her absolute horror, Tartaglia chimed in to the conversation.
“Heyyy, What's your favorite part of this play?”
Okay…so was he just an idiot? There's NO way Dottore and Pantalone already have a favorite scene already, the play just began—!
“Good question! Personally, it's when they meet the Tragedians” Pantalone exclaimed with his fake polite smile.
“I like the part where they all die.” Dottore stated, casually as if he wasn't spoiling the story.
“Well, technically it's not all of them, is it?” Tartaglia corrected.
“Yes but at least Vodyanitsa's character, Gertrude, dies”
“But don't you wonder why she has such a minor character?”
“Pity, truely, but there's only two ladies in the play. If not Gertrude, she'll have to play Ophelia and her death would be off stage,” Dottore sighed, then turned to Pantalone, “that's no fun, is it?”
“Yes…It's better she plays Gertrude,” Pantalone then turned to look at Tartaglia, before faking a confused look and asking, “ah…I seem to have forgotten all those who died at the end…
“If I remember, it was Claudius, Laertes, Horatio—”
“Shut up already!!” Sandrone yelled at the three, then got looks from the common people outside
of the viewing box. To which she looked guilty for a second before speaking in a more hushed tone.
“I mean, Come on, this is not a private play just for you three! Some of us haven't watched it yet!”
Tartaglia looked at her for a moment, and then apologized, looking like a little kitten who had just gotten the scolding of its life…she couldn't stay mad at him now.
Dottore and Pantalone on the other hand? They just shamelessly turned away. Sandrone even heard Pantalone let out a snicker. She reminded herself again.
Hell, it's all hell. She's already dead, in hell, and being tortured by these demon spawns.
—————
The rest of the play continued the same way, she knew everything that would happen before it did, thanks to the three bothers sitting near her, and it pissed her off to no end.
As soon as the play was over, she stumbled out, leaving Pulonia to follow her himself, and marched over to Arlecchino and Columbina, where she proceeded to complain about how awful her experience was.
Somewhere in the background, Columbina spotted Tartaglia waving to Rosencrantz's Actor and the Actor waved back to him. Her attention stuck there until she felt the light punch on her side by Sandrone, who was still complaining.
—————
45 and Pantalone left the theater, filling their ride back to Zapolyarny Palace with quiet chuckles and plans to repeat the same thing next time as well.
45 noticed Pantalone was shivering slightly despite already wearing a jacket. He retrieved his coat from the chauffeur and dropped it over Pantalone's shoulder.
With all considered, even though it was a slow and boring week filled with the smell of antiseptic and boiling medicine. Having two theater dates with his beloved definitely made this one of his best weeks in a while.