Archive of Our Own ^beta

Why do I do just as you say

Why must I just give you your way

Why do I sigh, why don't I try to forget

It must have been that something lovers call fate

Kept me saying I have to wait

I saw them all, just couldn't fall, 'til we met

It had to be you

It had to be you

I wandered around, and I finally found

The somebody who

Could make me be true

And could make me be blue

And even be glad

Just to be sad - thinking of you

Some others I've seen

Might never be mean

Might never be cross, or try to be boss

But they wouldn't do

For nobody else gave me a thrill

With all your faults, I love you still

It had to be you

Wonderful you

It had to be you

-

“It had to be you” by Frank Sinatra

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It really occurs to Stone how long they have been in Europe, laying low and gathering strength, when his hands nearly freeze off on one of his morning runs, his breath fogging in front of his face with every puff. Huh. He stops to breathe warm air into his cupped palms, uses the break to glance around and really see. Of course he had known that Summer had gone and made way for autumn long ago, and winters is creeping in through Paris’ streets now... but he hadn't really consciously taken note of it until now.

We've been here for months now, he reflects, a little awed. When they had first arrived here, he had expected Robotnik to lose his patience and demand they go back for revenge on the hedgehog in a week or less. But instead, months. Months and breakfasts together, and trips around the city, and dates. Actual dates.

That last one is still a little hard to wrap his mind around.

All in all, it doesn't feel like they have been here months, it feels like years with how much has happened since they came here. Mostly good things; not all of them, but most.

A fond smile forms on his lips while he reflects on all the events of the past months which have only served to bring him and the doctor closer. He is still smiling to himself when he turns into the hotel and makes his way up to their room, taking the stairs two steps at a time.

Once in front of the door to their shared room, he knocks on the wood in the agreed-on pattern before pushing it open.

His entrance isn't immediately acknowledged, and once Stone takes a closer look, he understands why.

Robotnik is seated at the coffee table, a pair of googles drawn over his eyes while he works on welding a few miniscule parts together. A new project then, Stone surmises, and makes sure to be as quiet as possible while he kicks off his boots and begins slipping out of his jacket. He doesn't want to disturb the genius while he is still hard at work.

He is just turning around to hang up his jacket when the sound of the welding tool turns of and he is rather gruffly addressed, "Stone."

Oh, he is actually not as immersed in his work as the former agent has thought then. "Doctor?"

"What's wrong?"

Blinking, Stone looks back over his shoulder. "Nothing is wrong. What made you think so?"

By way of explanation, Robotnik pushes his googles up and swipes across his wrist screen, causing a holoscreen to rise from it. The display shows heartrate, body heat and a few other readings, and the doctor gestures to them. "Your vital signs just spiked."

Ah. Laughing a little, Stone shakes his head, oddly touched by the fact that he is essentially being spied on. It is a strange way of showing it, for sure, but in the end, it is a gesture born of genuine care. And the worry is easily taken care of. Turning back to hang up his jacket, Stone says over his shoulder."It's cold outside, and I wasn't dressed warmly enough."

"Cold, huh."

"Yes well. It's already November."

"November?" Stone turns back around in time to see Robotnik draw up a different display on the holoscreen, frowning at what he sees there - a calendar. "Hm. Right."

Why would I be wrong about that? Stone thinks, amused, but with no bite behind it. He is long since used to the doctor doubting statements from anyone but himself out of sheer habit. Still chuckling lightly to himself, he finishes pulling off his gear and makes to go to the other room.  Better to stay out of the doctor's way while he is working, after all.

He makes it two steps before there is the sound of a throat being cleared sharply in his back, and a rather harsh, "Where do you think you're going?"

Turning back around, Stone feels his heart miss a beat when the doctor crooks two fingers at him, a clear directive. Ah, yes. That is still new enough that he isn't sure if it is really allowed, sometimes. 

Not new enough that he doesn't know what is asked of him, though. Smile already blooming on his face, he crosses the room, but warns at the same time, "I'm cold."

"So? Doesn't mean you can just ignore me,"' grumbling, Robotnik hooks the same two fingers into the lower edge of Stone's collar, uses the grip to reel in the other man the last few inches. Stone barely gets out the mumbled protest "I would never-..." before the doctor has already leaned over to silence him with a biting kiss.

Which gets interrupted pretty quickly and rudely when Robotnik jolts back, pulling a face. "Ugh, you are cold."

Stone starts laughing - really can't help it, not even when he is leveled with a glare for it. Can't even really stop chuckling when he is reeled back in and this time very purposefully silenced with a bite to his lower lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood. Robotnik probably thinks that's some sort of punishment for being an impertinent pest, or some sorts. But really, if it is supposed to be, the doctor really needs to step up his game again... or at least stop soothing the sting with more kisses right after.

There is no way Stone is going to point that out to him, though. If this is what being impertinent gets him, he will be the most impertinent assistant ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The conversation about weather conditions and time of the year slips Stone's mind entirely afterwards, there and gone again. He changes his outfit to be more appropriate for running in the cold weather, makes a mental note to spruce the doctor's latte up with some cinnamon to fit the season, and other than, goes about his days no different from usual. After all, seasons changing does not mean anything else has changed, right? 

In the aftermath, he figures he should probably have noticed something off when Robotnik is quieter than usual. But at the time, he chalks that behavior up to a new project the doctor is working on; he always goes a little more silent and serious when he has reached delicate points in the process.

All in all, Stone suspects when a few days after the forgettable conversation, the Mini-Nik greets him with a high beep once he steps out of the bathroom. Smiling is a kneejerk reaction to the small Badnik at this point, and he greets it with a gentle pat to the top of its chassis. "Hello, little one."

The high beep he gets in answer has an obviously happy note to it and the Mini-Nik presses into his palm with a thrill. Stone laughs quietly, pats once more, and steps around the drone - only to blink in surprise when the Mini-Nik follows him with a thrill, cutting into his path once more. "What? Is something the matter?"

But no matter how highly developed the Mini-Nik is, talking is not one of the abilities it had been equipped with. Its beeping, thrilling and swooping left and right is certainly cute to watch, but it tells Stone absolutely nothing, and he laughs, calming the little thing by catching it between his palms and holding it still. "Sorry, little one, but that does not help me the tiniest bit."

On cue, Robotnik's voice filters in from the next room, sounding long-suffering and tired, "It's supposed to be calling you over, so get a move on, sycophant."

The petulant comment startles a surprised laugh out of Stone and he barely keeps himself from asking Why did you not just call me then? Biting his lip to keep it in, he does as he is told, leaving the Mini-Nik behind with one last pat to follow the doctor's voice. The man had sounded slightly miffed, but far away from truly impatient or even angry yet, so Stone doesn't feel like there is a real emergency when he makes his way from one room to the other, pushing the door fully open to ask, "What did you need, doctor...?"

The sight that greets him makes him stumble and trail off and Stone finds himself standing with one foot in the room, jaw hanging open.

The first thing which he notices is how orderly everything is; the stray pieces of different projects and the tools, both fixtures in the room usually, have been put away to god knows where. There is a tablecloth put over the coffee table - strategically hiding the burn marks and scratches which had accumulated in the process of different projects - and a tray with cookies and one with cake had been set out on top of it, two cups of coffee steaming next to it.

Robotnik is in the middle of pushing the second armchair over to the table, to mirror its twin. When he notices Stone hovering in the door frame, he clicks his tongue and gestures for him to come closer. "Pick your jaw off the ground, Stone, and take a seat."

Closing his mouth slowly, Stone enters the room carefully. His mind is still racing, attempting to make sense of this. Had he missed some important date? Or just the doctor's appointed four o'clock latte? This seems a little overdone for the later, but one could never know... After all, in all of his mayhem and chaos, there are certain red threads in the doctor's behavior, habits not even he wants or can shake. Such as timely intakes of coffee - a latte at exact times, and not a minute earlier or later. Subtly, Stone checks the clock on the wall. But no, he hasn't by some miracle missed the afternoon latte. So this is... he has no idea what it is, to be honest. More than a little helpless, he turns to the only person in the room who can possibly explain what is going on. "Doctor...?"

"Ah," snapping his fingers as if he had a sudden thought, Robotnik interrupts him with a wave of his hand. With two great strides, he is back over by the armchair he usually occupies and picks something up from the low table next to it. A flick of his wrist, and the item lands in the middle of the coffee table with a rustle of cloth and the clinking of cutlery. It is a folded set of cloth, Stone notes, the darkblue, nearly black color familiar to him now with how many times he has seen the doctor work on it. He hadn't known it is finished, though, and despite himself, he makes a surprised little sound to see it laying there now. "That's..."

"It's the suit," Robotnik explains. Wandering over, he rights the bundle, pushes it a little to the left, then pauses. Pushes it back to the right. "Bullet-proof, explosion-proof, basically fool-proof. I finished it a few days ago, but might as well use the special occasion to give it to you now."

Of course it is the suit - he can see that it is the suit. The fact alone that the doctor stoops so low as to point out something obvious already gives away how out of his comfort zone this is. That little show of discomfort slots into place like a missing puzzle piece, and Stone looks at the setup with a new perspective entirely. Where it might seem like a normal, simple set up for coffee and cake on first glance, it now seems much more deliberate. Purposeful. There is something going on, even though Stone still has not quite figured out what.

Nothing for it; either this is something he should have known, and admitting it will get him a telling-off, or this special occasion is something the doctor has entirely made up and there is no chance he could have seen it coming. Swallowing the bitter pill, Stone prods, "And this "special occasion" you mentioned would be...?"

His careful question stills the nervous energy around the doctor entirely - because that's what it is, Stone realizes. Nerves. This is not the usual never-stopping restlessness of one Ivo Robotnik, this is plain nerves. What the hell?

"November," Robotnik answers; no, drops it into the room like a bomb, like a challenge, startling Stone out of his realization.  Then, probably realizing that that is not much information, he tacks on, "November, ten years ago, is when you started working for me."

That... oh. Mind racing, Stone counts back, attempting to back up that statement with facts. He hadn't paid a lot of attention to things like the current year, lately, not with the eight months the doctor had been off-world and everything that had happened after. But it is entirely correct, he finds, and immediately feels a bit irked over the fact that he had missed it. He is usually more observant than that, and dates are his thing, not the doctor's....

Which makes this a miracle, considering that Robotnik had been the one to bring it up.

That thought gives Stone pause, and he blinks, then drags his gaze away from the coffee table and back towards the doctor.

Who is still talking, has been the entire time, hands moving animatedly and expression ever-moving, flickering through a myriad of emotions in the span of seconds, " Or, started working as my assistant, to be entirely accurate. By that time, you were still an agency lapdog, after all,"

"Right," Stone agrees on autopilot, stepping closer as if drawn by invisible string, lets his fingertips on the table's very edge. So... this is all to... celebrate an anniversary?

It is.... thoughtful, Stone decides, careful even in his mind not to apply any words which could possibly offend the other man, like sweet or caring. It is also something which would have never happened two years ago - one year ago - no, even a few months ago. Back then, the mere idea of celebrating an anniversary would have made Robotnik scoff and gag, possibly laugh cruelly over something so base.

He probably still doesn't like them, Stone muses, noting the way Robotnik holds himself stiff and still, fingers rubbing uneasily together seemingly unconsciously. Would probably have ignored it, or forgotten about it entirely... but he knows Stone wouldn't. So he had tried, his own discomfort be damned. That's why the gesture is thoughtful.

It hits him then that standing around and staring might just make the other man even more uncomfortable, and Stone jolts out of his thoughts. Shakes his head, and steps around the table to take a seat in the armchair there carefully. "I didn't work on their orders for long, though."

A snort bursts out of Robotnik. Either the fact that he had sat down - taken the invitation - or his weak attempt at a joke manage to unwind the doctor somewhat, and the man's shoulder lower visibly while he mirrors Stone, steps around to the opposite side of the table to fall heavily into his own armchair. "True. Doesn't change the fact that you started out as an army dog."

"You still decided to celebrate that day, though." Mentioning the fact that the doctor had remembered - had cared - is a bit of a gamble, Stone knows, but surely, he is allowed this little transgression today.

And true enough, Robotnik merely waves his hand, acknowledging the answer just barely. "Hm. I had nothing better to do."

"Of course." As if he couldn't have found something to occupy himself with. Warmth curls insistently inside Stone's chest, demanding to show in a smile on his face. He barely keeps it in check, instead busies himself with lifting the folded-up suit off the table, putting it aside carefully. He will admire and try it on later.

"So might as well use the excuse to have some good coffee," reaching over the table, Robotnik drags the entire sugar box towards his side of the table. "However, I'm actually surprised that you did not bring it up yourself. Celebrating the first day we met? You're sentimental like that, and yet you didn't say anything. Any reason for that?"

"Well..." In the middle of turning back to his coffee, Stone hesitates, torn between two equally strong urges; being honest with the doctor, and agreeing with him (in most cases). Finally, the first one won out, as it did so often. A helpless little smile twitching around his lips, he starts, "Actually that would be because... it's not the right date."

Immediately, Robotnik stills entirely, apart from his features; those flicker and twitch through an entire series of emotions and thoughts, too fast even for Stone, who has become so good at reading them all. Finally, Robotnik settles on a deep frown of unhappy confusion and crosses his arms while he snorts. "I don't get dates wrong, Stone." 

Once upon a time, being made aware of a possible mistake would have sent the doctor spiraling in a tantrum of epical proportions. His former agent can't help but feel proud of how far they have come... and feels safe enough to retort instead of apologize. "You got your own birthday wrong once," Stone points out mildly, only so he gets to see the indignation flicker over the other's face while he bites back a smile. Too easy to rile him up, sometimes.

"I also don't do birthdays, as you well know," Robotnik flicks the answer off with a flap of his wrist, as if it is something ridiculous to even bring up. "But that's beside the point. Point is, I don't miss dates."

"You didn't miss it, per se," Stone explains, soothing even though he is still laughing a little. "You just didn't have the right one."

"Of course I have the right one!" With a flick of two fingers, Robotnik opens the screen attached to his wrist as usual and calls up a holoscreen. It hovers an inch above his wrist while he waggles his fingers against it, indicating the date it shows. "The exact date you started working for me. Or do you want to tell me otherwise?"

"That is the date I started working for you." The agreement is easy, since it is true. It also helps soothe some of the doctor's rising nerves. But he still only has half the information, so Stone continues undeterred, "It is not the day I met you. That was nearly seven months earlier."

The doctor's face twitches, possibly a mixture of surprise and an attempt of sift through his memory very quickly. A second later, already his brow slants into a frown. "We didn't know each other before you started working for me."

All a matter of perspective, but the doctor couldn't know that. Smirking a little, Stone leans back in his chair, raising a hand to his chin, faking deep thought while he ponders aloud, "No, knowing would be a too strong word. Met each other, perhaps. Or crossed paths."

Clearly hearing the laughter still present in his voice, Robotnik narrows his eyes at him. No real anger yet; irked annoyance at best. "You are enjoying this," he accuses, fingers tapping a nervous staccato on the table. "Lording over me that you remember something I don’t-..."

"Sure I do. Wouldn't you do the same?"

"Of course I would; doesn't mean I have to like being on the receiving end of it."

Startled laughter bursts out of Stone at the unexpected honesty, and he is fairly sure he sees a smirk flit over Robotnik's face in answer. Still chuckling, he points out, "You also wouldn't give me a hint, were you in my stead."

That manages to sober the doctor up immediately again, and he hisses out a warning. "Stone."

"But I will." He is only trying to tease; he is not suicidal after all. Scratching his chin in thought, Stone settles on something he is sure the other remembers, "Think back... oh, four months before my first day as your assistant."

"You said seven months, just now."

"Seven months before I began working for you, I saw you for the first time. Well. Really saw you. You didn't see me. We can't count that as a meeting."

Robotnik clearly isn't pleased with that explanation, but he can see the logic in it, grudgingly.  He mirrors Stone's position, sitting back while he thinks, twirling the very tip of his mustache between two fingers. "Four months..."

Now that he reflects on it, that is a rather vague description for someone who doesn't remember. Taking some pity on him, Stone adds some more details, "Four months, and a charity event. You pulled a prank on that party."

That's as much ad he will say - is probably way too much, already. Whatever, this has never been a real competition anyway. Amused, Stone watches how the shortest moment, Robotnik's gaze goes softer, a little vacant while it turns inwards, eyelashes fluttering the slightest bit while the doctor digs through the impressive database which is his memory...

One heartbeat, two, then Robotnik hisses out a breath, gaze sharpening again while it snaps back to Stone. "That was you,"

The incredulous surprise in the man's voice is a truly rare thing, and Stone is laughing quietly before he can help it. "For someone with eidetic memory," he remarks, only feeling fondness, "your ability to recall people's faces is abysmal, doctor."

"Why, pray tell, would I remember the ugly mug of every damn fool I had the displeasure to ever deal with in my life? I barely pay attention to them on a regular basis, I need the headspace for more important things than remembering their stupid faces." Tapping his fingers against the table rapidly, Robotnik repeats in clear disbelieve, "That was you."

"We established that just now."

"No, I realized just now. Establishing would be...," Robotnik trails off, seemingly losing his thread of thought when something more important strikes him again. "Of course that was you. Who else would laugh when I am about to poison a whole party full of-..."

"Prank," Stone corrects. 

"... poison a whole party full of fools and imbeciles," his interruption is simply steamrolled over. "I should have made the connection. Here I thought I have influenced you and your cracked personality, Stone, but it turns out you always had a few screws loose."

"Thank you," he answers lightly. From a man like Doctor Robotnik, that is to be considered a compliment.

It draws a snort from the doctor, and he falls back in his chair, crossing his arms while he studies Stone intently. "So, that would have been the day we first met, then?"

"Well. No. That was only the day we actually met face to face."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"

Stone laughs aloud when Robotnik throws his hands up in a gesture of frustration. "You asked. And I told you I had met you earlier than the charity event, too."'

"You did. But you can't tell me I forgot another meeting!"

"You didn't meet me, before."

"... Now you stopped making sense entirely."

"Three months before the charity event, you held a presentation. I was in the audience," Stone takes a sip of his coffee, shrugs.

Across from him, Robotnik's eyes only narrow further. He is clearly waiting for something more, and when it doesn't come, he snorts. "That's it?"

"That's it."

"Not exactly a memorable first meeting."

"For me, it was."

The simple firmness of the words seems to give Robotnik pause; instead of giving a quick-witted retort, he stops, blinks, and sits back in order to really take Stone in. For the first time since they had started talking, he really seems to take everything he had just been told in, brows drawing into a frown while he thinks.

Suddenly feeling a little exposed under that scrutiny and after having admitted so much, Stone reaches for his cup of coffee, taking a sip to give himself something to do. While he drinks, he watches the doctor over the rim of the cup. The genius still seems deep in thought, fingers plucking at one of the pastries and flaying it apart rather than eating it while he stares into the air, but he doesn't seem to be upset, which is good. Probably just digesting the new - or newly remembered - information, sorting it in.

Satisfied with that explanation, Stone probably isn't as alarmed as he should have been when Robotnik suddenly blinks sharply and looks up again with a huff, eyes glittering. He merely tilts his head, waiting.

He does feel a little sense of alarm when a slow, dark smile unfurls on the doctor's face, all smug satisfaction and danger. But it is less worry, more a kind of... anticipation. "What?" He asks on instinct, smiling a little himself.

At being acknowledged, Robotnik only looks that much smugger; a cat that is about to get the canary... after some more playing with it. "You used to be a terrible bodyguard."

It is said with such an obvious delight, not even insulting, that it sets an alarm bell off in the back of Stone's mind, Something like a premonition prickles at his neck. It is a feeling as if he is being set up for a trap here but he cannot pinpoint where the innocent seeming statement might hide teeth and shackles. Slowly, he admits, "It... was, perhaps, not the favorite part of my career."

"No, no," pushing his chair back, Robotnik rises, graceful and fluid, and begins wandering around the table towards Stone while he explains, voice lilting, rising and falling with smugness and glee, "I mean terrible, sycophant. Who else lets their employer get poisoned and does nothing about it? And cites that he doesn't like them to a near stranger? Terrible way of conduction yourself, really."

The warning is still there, but Stone can't grasp it. It doesn't feel like danger, not really - this is the doctor after all - which is the only reason why he stays seated while the other approaches. Helpless to do anything else, he plays along, shrugging. "Well, I was only being honest..."

He gets interrupted almost immediately with a tut. "See, that's where I disagree."

"What?" They are not going to have that whole conversation again where he has to insist that he would never lie to the other, hopefully?

But no, Robotnik doesn't look like he is out to argue; he only looks amused while he shakes his head, clacks his tongue, one great act, all of it. "See, I think the whole lazy bodyguard act? Was a scam."

"Oh?"

"An absolute show you put on."

"What makes you think so?"

He has a millisecond to realize that he has given the reins on this conversation away freely right then when the doctor's eyes light up, glittering with triumph, a heartbeat before the man moves fast, crowding into Stone's space easily, forcing the former agent deeper into the armchair while he looms over him, one hand over his collarbone and the other...

The other cupping, light and painless, over Stone's side - right above the still relatively new scar he had gotten while...

Ah. Should have seen that one coming.

The scar he had gotten while throwing himself in front of the doctor.

Robotnik sees the exact moment he has won when Stone's breath hitches in his chest, a smirk as sharp as a knife stretching over his face while he croons, pressing down a tad harder, "Because I could never find a single thing to complain about, regarding your bodyguard skills."

There it is, the trap. And he had walked right into it. Breath hitching once more both at the pressure on the tender spot as well as the realization that he has been had, Stone bursts out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. "You couldn't even remember my face, but you remember all of those details-...."

"I always remember the memorable bits and pieces."

"How I used to be bad at my job is memorable?" It's a weak counter, he knows it, but he is not one to stop fighting even when he has already been had.

"No, sycophant. The fact that’s memorable is that you were disinterested in the job because of, what was it again?" The hand over his collarbone wanders, slips up his throat far enough that Stone instinctively tilts his head back a bit, bringing them eye to eye while Robotnik ponders aloud, "Dislike for your employer, I seem to recall?"

"You recall correctly, doctor."

"What made you suddenly so interested in the job, hmmm?"

He knows, and Stone knows that he knows, and Robotnik knows that.... well, you get the gist, right. This is just a game, to make Stone say it. For a moment, they regard each other silently, both smiling, both too stubborn for their own good. The air crackles with tension while each attempt s to wait out the other, see who cracks first and drops the pretense.

In the end, Stone only gives in because the doctor has one this one fair and square, and it is probably his own fault for even poking fun at him to begin with, really. "You, of course," he allows, not feeling much like a loser when he grins sharply up at the other, shaking his head a little to show how impossible he thinks him. "You. You already knew that."

The last part is a bit of an accusation, and Robotnik takes it with an easy, unapologetic shrug. "Of course I know it, doesn't need a genius to figure it out. Hearing it, though.... Always nice to get an unexpected ego boost."

As if he even needs one. That man. Horribly fond and still feeling the need to be contrary, Stone decides if he has to be honest today, he will be honest. Tilting his chin up - in challenge and to hide the beginning laughter in his eyes - he acquiesces the same moment he prepares a counterblow:  "Alright. In that case, you might also want to hear more."

The triumphant expression flickers a little when Robotnik hesitates over that. "What more should there be?"

"A lot." Two can play this game, and Stone had long since lost all shyness over the fact how damn far he would go for Robotnik. If the other man thinks he can embarrass him by making him say it, he has got another thing coming. "For example, that by the time of the charity event I had already long since decided to get the job as your assistant. That happened three months earlier, to be exact."

"That was...," frowning, Robotnik tilts his head, clearly scurrying for the details on that event. He finds it easily enough but is not particularly impressed apparently, since a moment later, he blows an unhappy raspberry and rolls his eyes. "That presentation you mentioned?"

"The very same. You held a presentation in front of the agency. The new Badnik - or the very first official Badnik? I never got to ask you," Stone reflects. Meeting the doctor's intense gaze suddenly isn't as easy anymore, and he finds himself speaking more to the other's collarbone, fingers playing idly with the edge of a collar while he reminisces. "You made an example of one of the agent's there, and at the same time kept explaining the capabilities of the Badnik. I was... fascinated."

A hum resounds somewhere above him, slow and thoughtful "By the Badnik."

He really is going to make him say it, huh? Stone huffs a laugh, shakes his head. He should have known he wouldn't get away with that kind of open-ended wording. "That, too. Mostly by its creator, though."

No answer this time. Strange. Considering the doctor's ego, he had expected him to gleefully dig into that statement, pick it up apart and press for more. Silence is... unfamiliar territory. Not sure if he is supposed to say more, Stone continues with a light frown, "I was fascinated by your work as much as your personality; I hadn't met anyone quite as intriguing as you before, so when I heard that there were assistants being assigned to you, well. I decided I wanted to give that a try."

"... And to come to that decision, it took you another seven months?"

Of course the other would notice the discrepancy in his story. "No. The rest of the time was spent on finding a way to get assigned to you. I wasn't exactly the agency's first choice for the position."

the hand over Stone's throat squeezes tighter to the point of near-pain. "... How did you manage it?"

"Well," what a strange question. He hadn't thought that would even interest the doctor.  Blinking a little, Stone casts his mind back, trying to get it all in order. Details are a little blurry by now; It had been ten years, after all. "At first, a direct request to the right places. When that did not work, the usual. Waiting, tricking, lying. Taking every opportunity I saw to get the position, basically."

Finishing his summary, Stone cringes a little when he listens what he had just said. Now that he has said all that loud for the first time, it sounds... like too much. He had basically admitted that he had chased after a position at the other man's side for months, before they had even met. Not exactly a good impression.

There is a beat of silence, before Robotnik takes a deep, slow breath, and moves with a speed his wiry frame belies. Stone hisses a little when the pressure on his side and his throat suddenly increases, and has to scramble to rip his hands up and settle them on the doctor's waist when the other simply slides into his lap, crowding into his personal space like he owns it, putting his entire weight onto Stone in the process. It is only good reflexes and familiarity with the doctor's unpredictability which allow Stone to securely grab the older man and support him before he can risk falling backwards, and it still knocks the breath out of him a little when Robotnik simply takes a seat right there on top of him.

Scooting around a little, graciously ignoring Stone's warning sound and tightening grip, Robotnik gets comfortable - and then immediately rips one hand up to take hold of Stone's chin, forcing it up.

Alarmed by the sudden motion, Stone briefly tenses, half-expecting the other to snap at him - old habits die hard - only to blink in surprise when he comes face to face with the doctor and finds him grinning. He looks... triumphant?

"You were obsessed with me." Robotnik nearly croons the word, sounding them out as if he is tasting them with relish.

That... does not sound unnerved, or angry, or even disgusted. Some kind of tension Stone had barely dared to put a name to unravels in the former agent's chest, and he finds himself smiling slowly. Maybe the impression had not been as bad as he had thought. "Were?"

"Oh, stop nitpicking. Fine. are. Are obsessed with me.," Robotnik continues to smirk while he waves the correction away impatiently. "Obviously."

It is said so nonchalantly, in passing, as if it is a given, that any nerves Stone might have felt after baring himself like this in front of the other goes up in smoke. He breathes out deeply, sagging a little with relief, while a smile born of fondness and awe both tugs at his lips. "Obviously."

Why was I even worried about this?

The hand which had rested loosely around his chin tightens to the point of discomfort, but Stone bears it without a sound, allows the doctor to tip his head back, to turn it slightly to this side and that, while the genius seems to study him intently.

Whatever he is looking for, whatever he finds there in Stone's eyes and face, seems to please Robotnik. All of a sudden, his triumphant grin spreads, curls, and finally, he begins laughing, quiet at first, then growing louder by the second, until it booms into a kind of full-bodied laugh which very few people probably ever got to hear from him. Even to Stone it is a rare thing, and he watches, mesmerized and a little perplexed, while the other man nearly doubles over above him in mirth, shaking with joy. "What?" He asks finally, laughing himself, because as much as he enjoys the sight of that, he would like to be in on the joke as well.

"They.... they tried so desperately to put a babysitter at my side... to control me," still chuckling darkly, Robotnik wipes across his eyes with the ball of his hand, grin wide and toothy while he looks down at Stone. The hand which had been caressing absentmindedly along the agent's side, causing shivers in its wake, comes up to card through his hair instead, scratching just lightly enough that Stone's brain shortens out for a second, causing him to nearly miss the doctor's next words: "And who did they give me, in the end? You. Of all people, you."

Stone smiles bemusedly, seeing the joke, remotely, yes, but feeling like it isn't quite accurate. He could of course, point out that he had tricked them, that they couldn't have known how out of control assigning him to Robotnik would really go.... but he doesn't particularly feel like defending the government, and he is more interested to hear what the doctor has to say, anyway.

He is glad he is kept from interrupting the other when Robotnik calms slowly, smirk softening until it almost a smile. "I wonder if they ever realized..." he nearly murmurs the words, as if simply thinking out loud while his fingers card through Stone's beard, "... what a gift they handed me."

Oh. For the second time that day, it is Stone who is caught wrongfooted, tongue-tied and speechless. Is the doctor aware what he had just... yes, yes, he is, the agent decides with a gulp when he searches the older man's eyes, the intensity there leaves no room for doubt. Robotnik had chosen his words very deliberately.

Swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat, Stone points out hoarsely, "I always thought it's the other way around, doctor,"

Because surely, surely, he is the lucky one, to get the chance to be in the presence of this man? To work alongside him? To be chosen by him?

Robotnik seems to disagree however. He rolls his eyes at him, digs his fingertips just a tad deeper into the joints of Stone's jaw while he clacks his tongue at him. "For once, can you not argue with me, sycophant? Only this once."

Despite the tension crackling between them, Stone can't help the amusement bubbling inside of him at the long-suffering tone of the other. "I don't argue with you all the time."

"Then what are you doing right now?"

"... Ah." Well. If he puts it like that. Managing a weak smile, Stone shrugs a little helplessly. "Sorry?"

The annoyed look melts into a smirk and Robotnik rolls his eyes, easing the pressure on his assistant somewhat. "Brainless barnacle."

Stone feels his eyelids attempt to flutter closed when the doctor's thumb caresses the formerly abused spots in a near-apology, the gentleness of the gesture all the more potent after the pain. It hits him, then, much too late he thinks, that Robotnik sounds rather... amused by the whole incident. Almost... fond of the continued arguing and backtalking? For a man like Robotnik, who rarely ever accepts anyone else’s opinion and certainly doesn't tolerate anyone criticizing him, this seems huge. How had Stone never really consciously taken note of that? The realization settles heavy in the general area of his chest now, warm and bubbly, and he finds himself smiling with it, awed and touched. "You like my arguing."

For a beat it looks like Robotnik will roll his eyes once more and shrug the comment off with a snappish counter, but then his gaze seems to catch on something in Stone's expression, and he does a double take, frowns lightly when understanding dawns. With a huff, the doctor glances aside briefly, then up, then back at Stone. "How did you only just realize-...! Fine. Let's say I can tolerate it, most of the time."

Stone's smile only widens, warmth in his chest expanding further. "Tolerate it. Of course."

"Hm." By the look Robotnik throws him, he can very well hear the delight in his agent's voice. "Don't think that gives you a free pass now, Stone."

"You know I would never."

"Bzzzt, wrong, I know you would," Sighing deeply, the doctor scoots around until he is apparently more comfortable on the other man's lap, uses the movement to throw one arm over the chair's backrest and cage Stone in entirely while he leans into his space, knocking their foreheads together. "And yet, I don't even feel like terrorizing you out of the habit, ugh. The things I put up with from you, unbelievable."

"You know," Stone manages... to his own surprise, since he still feels so choked up. "You're only making me more convinced that I'm the lucky one in this relationship when you say things like that."

"What did we just say about arguing, Stone-..."

"That you like it?"

He is aware he has been toeing the line for a while there, and he knows he overdid it when Robotnik 's eyes flash dangerously, one second before the doctor growls and surges against him, nearly knocking the both of them plus armchair over with the force of it. The doctor's lips crash against his own, hard and painful, and Stone is fairly sure he tastes iron at the same time pain blooms in his lips.

And still, Stone is laughing into the biting kiss, shaking with mirth even as bruises bloom under the fingertips digging into his skin. It's harsh, it's painful - it's genuine, and passionate, and a hundred percent Robotnik. What more would he want? Nothing, he thinks, shifting so he can kiss back with equal force, give as good as he gets. Nothing more.

This is more than he could ever have dreamed of.

And I am the lucky one, here.

But he will keep that thought for himself…

For now. Later, much later, it might make a good starting point for another fun argument.