Work Text:
There was a gift on his desk.
Wrapped in a delicate, deep crimson and tied with a gold ribbon, sat a rectangular box at his desk. It had not been there that morning, and it certainly had not appeared out of thin air, but it sat there, innocent and beautifully packaged as if for someone of great importance, awfully cared for and loved.
It was a mistake, surely. No one had ever given him anything. Not without asking for something in return, that is.
With careful movements as if the box might explode, Robotnik reached for the gift, bringing it closer to his face and inspecting the wrapping. Expertly fold, crisp corners, not a single mismatched edge in sight. The ribbon sparkled with tiny specs of glitter, a perfect bow at the center. The perfectionism earned a raised eyebrow. Robotnik knew only one person so meticulous in their hobbies, apart from himself, and the medium-sized box in his hands, looking like it was plucked straight from Santa’s workshop, could only be the work of one Agent Stone.
Now, why would the man give him anything? He’d been nothing but abrasive and cruel these past weeks, end-of-year deadlines wearing his patience thin and temper exponentially more explosive, often sending the Agent out of the laboratory so he could think properly, unbothered by the worried, sad looks and deeply upsetting requests for a break to eat or rest. In the end, sending Stone away did not help as much as he’d hoped, more times than not simply souring his mood further as a result of an unheard call, and the Agent had suffered the brunt of his anger anyway.
There was no logical reason behind the gesture. A pang of suspicion quickly settled into Robotnik’s chest, bothered by the prospect of someone giving him something out of their own volition, no strings attached, and no demand for retribution.
The Agent had not been in the laboratory that day, busy with mandatory inane field work, tutoring new Agents as stated in his contract with the Department of Defense, unrelated to his employment as Robotnik’s assistant and bodyguard. The Doctor had complained, threatened, made a show of said circumstances, claiming Stone was not to be lent to others, but Walters had been clear about the arrangement, an ultimatum leaving his lips, “Agent Stone is to remain in his current positions, one more complaint, Ivo, and I’ll take him from you entirely.” That had sealed the deal, and so Robotnik was to deal with the absence of his assistant twice a month, indefinitely.
Stone had not set foot in the lab today, so how did the box appear? Looking around, box clutched tightly against his chest, Robotnik made a quick round of the place, inspecting every nook and cranny for signs of a hiding spot. There were none, of course. His main laboratory was impenetrable and void of any security breaches, no blind spots for surveillance cameras or badniks, no opportunity for breaking in or out.
Gazing up at a camera, a devious smile curled his lips.
With large steps, Robotnik made way back to his console, throwing himself into his rolling chair with a spark of giddy determination as his unoccupied hand tapped into the footage of all surrounding security cameras in and out of the laboratory. After a few minutes of rewinding and upscaling the video feed, the Doctor found his Agent’s first appearance with a triumphant “Aha!”
It was nighttime when Stone stepped into the lab, throwing a quick glance at his surroundings before raising his hand and pressing it into the wall to activate the security system, successfully walking in and not bothering to turn the lights on. A cheery “Welcome, Agent Stone” sounded inside the building shortly after.
“Shhh!” The Agent whispered, looking up at the disembodied voice with a slightly panicked frown.
Robotnik snorted at the screen, pausing to save a screenshot of Stone’s panic in the dark. It was such a rare expression, after all.
“Apologies, Agent Stone,” the AI answered in a matching rushed tone.
The Agent let out a relieved sigh, walking with silent steps to his apparent destination in the pitch-black laboratory, so used to its layout that the darkness did little to hinder him.
Robotnik changed the camera view, now following Stone into the badniks’ charging ports, lined up against the wall from ground to ceiling, his babies sleeping peacefully.
With a quick tap to the shell of a badnik, Stone watched with a soft smile as it woke up and beeped low, almost confused as to why it was awoken out of schedule. “Hello, qalbi,” he muttered, a loving hand stroking the metal case. “Sorry for waking you up, but can you do me a favor?”
The badnik beeped in confirmation, a muted trilling coming from inside it. Stone opened his suit, extricating a familiar rectangular box from its inside pocket. “I need you to keep this safe and deliver it to the Doctor’s desk tomorrow when he’s not looking. Can you do that for me, love?” He whispered with a smidge of mischief, a conspiratory smirk on his face.
Suddenly, the box felt heavy in Robotnik’s hand. Seeing Stone interact with his spawn always made a twinge of something pull at his heart, how the Agent wasn’t afraid of them, no matter how many times the Doctor had sicced them on Stone to chase him out of the lab. Sometimes the younger man even laughed while he ran, the sound of non-lethal tasers surely spiking his adrenaline and masochistic tendencies.
Another confirming beep followed by the unmistakable sound of the cooling fan getting louder. “Thank you,” he said, handing the box to the drone and watching with fond eyes as it opened a small compartment along its side, hiding the gift perfectly. It did not go into sleeping mode instantly, sensing the Agent had something else to say. “I hate to leave on Christmas of all days…” he sighed, petting the drone lightly. “I worry about him, Ivory.”
Ivory. That was the badnik Robotnik had assigned to Stone personally, although the name had been entirely the Agent’s doing. Initially, the badnik had started following Stone out of its own choice, assisting him with menial tasks and engaging in small conversations only Robotnik could fully decipher. As time went by and they became almost inseparable, the Doctor had no heart to deny his creation what it wanted, that being Stone’s company. So, to keep things professional and, more importantly, to make his baby happy, Ivory was officially Stone’s. The Agent, naturally, had no idea the badnik was his. And he intended to keep it that way.
“He works too much, puts too much pressure on himself,” he whispered, a well-known sadness in his eyes. “I wish I could do more.”
Ivory let out a long, hushed beep. Stone huffed with a lopsided smile, “Don’t take that tone with me.”
The drone’s red display switched to a pixelated image. The Agent sighed, “Yes, of course I do. But that’s not enough, is it?”
Frowning, Robotnik paused the video. What did they mean by that?
Of course I do.
His chest felt tight, and he held the box a little closer to himself, scanning the night-vision footage of Stone’s sorrowful face, the dim light of Ivory’s display. With a shaky breath, he pressed play again.
The badnik let out a sad beep, mirroring Stone’s mood. “I… Just be sure he gets it, okay? I won’t be there to see his reaction, so I’m counting on you to hand me the footage when I get back,” he whispered, a soft smile returning to his lips. Leaning down, Stone pressed a quick kiss to Ivory’s cold metal shell. “Sleep well, my love.”
And as soon as he was there, he was out, hopping into his motorcycle parked a few feet from the laboratory, engine quiet into the night as he drove away without bothering to put on a helmet.
There was a strange buzzing of nervousness underneath his skin as he looked down at the gift, hands suddenly uncertain when he lowered it into the console. Stone had gone out of his way to surprise him, conspired with his own creation, and risked getting caught in the middle of the night in a severely compromising position. All for him.
I worry about him.
With a steadying breath, gloved fingers delicately undid the golden knot. He gathered the ribbon, spinning it into a neat bundle, and left it beside him. The wrapping came off easily, not a tear on it, as he carefully folded it and placed it with the gold decoration.
Soon, a plain, black box was all that was left.
He probably spent more time staring at it than anticipated, because an alarmed beep sounded by his left and a startled scream came out of him as his fingers instinctively went for the buttons on the control gloves. “Who the hell-”
The badnik made a sound not unlike a laugh, making Robotnik scowl and lower his hand. “You’re spending way too much time with that useless waste of space,” he grumbled at Ivory, heart beating a mile a minute. It bumped at his shoulder, attempting a placating gesture that reminded him way too much of the Agent. “It’s okay, baby, it wasn’t your fault,” he sighed and petted the drone.
Companionable silence followed, neither knowing how to navigate the situation. It was Ivory who took the first step, so to speak, when it approached the desk and beeped at him curiously. “Yes, yes, I’ll open it, you’re as bad as your dad,” he complained offhandedly, already moving to finally open the dark box.
Robotnik froze at the sight before him. Inside the box lay a beautiful, sleek pair of sunglasses. Rectangular frame with thin handles, entirely black. Carefully, he lifted and held it to his eyes, impressed with how much light it could filter and yet allow him to see things clearly. They would fit right in with the rest of his wardrobe. It was perfect.
With a satisfied grin, Robotnik slid the glasses up his nose, delighted in how they felt against his skin. Turning to Ivory, he cupped the drone in his hands, aiming the display right at him to look at his reflection. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he purred, his grin turning into a full-blown smile, confident and sharp.
Hand me the footage when I get back.
Face softening just a bit, Robotnik spoke, “Good job, Stone.”
Later, when Stone got back with a steaming latte in hand, Robotnik was nowhere to be seen, but a white and purple box sat on his desk, innocent and wrapped to perfection, a small post-it note stuck to it.
To keep track of time.