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“Dance break, Stone. Out.” And with that the agent was unceremoniously shoved out of the mobile lab.
Not that he minded it, at all. His employer had always been the type of man to treasure his privacy and also when given the opportunity Aban would also like to catch a break, no matter how small.
It was a nice summer afternoon, the warmth of the sun felt nice on the agent’s kin and he couldn’t stop himself from turning his face up to the sky and taking in just a bit more of the sunshine that had been bestowed on Green hills. Of course Green Hills wasn’t a cold nor gloomy place at all, the opposite actually, but the agent had never seemed to catch a long enough break to be able to enjoy it.
Until now, then.
Aban had never been sent out of the lab now that he thought about it, yes out of the room more times than he could have counted. but he had never been pushed outside. He didn’t know what to expect, for how long he would be standing here, perhaps he wouldn’t come back inside until the sun had fallen beneath the hills and the first stars would dance in the sky. Often the Doctor his dance breaks were three, on a more relaxed day, five minutes long, but the Doctor is an unpredictable man, Agent Stone reminded himself with a soft smile, barely suppressed.
He checked his watch, no new messages, not from the Doctor at least. He had a few emails from G.U.N, not worthy of his time.
He swiped them away and forgot about them within a blink of an eye. Like Doctor like agent.
He stood there leaning against the sides of the mobile lab for a solid six minutes, no peep from the Doctor, was something wrong?
No, no if there was he would have heard it. But what if the enemy had stalked up to Robotnik from behind, rendering him defenseless. No, the badniks were there, it would be impossible to sneak up behind the Doctor. A million more thoughts raced through his head, growing more and more absurd with every passing second.
What if a prototype had collapsed on him?! What if the badniks had turned rogue?!
What if an alligator had made itself into the lab?! What if- What if!… What if the Doctor was just fine by himself and Aban could actually just be for a couple more minutes?
With hands that were softly trembling and buzzing with left behind nerves he reached into the inner pocket of his suit coat. His hand quickly found purchase as his fingers tightened around the small carton box.
He pulled it out and without missing a beat he flipped it open. Aban was presented with the sight of an half-empty cigarette box, in the place of the missing cigarettes a simple red lighter was tucked. He fished the lighter out alongside a cigarette. He wasn’t a chain smoker or anything like that. The agent smoked when around friends, family and sometimes just with the other agents. He dubbed himself a social smoker. But he was alone now? Okay, perhaps he did have a problem, but he could ponder over that later.
He placed the cigarette between his lips, lit it up and just stood there, occasionally puffing out the smoke and flicking the cigarette off its ashes. What the Doctor would say about smoking was not something Stone had to think all too long about. Robotnik had, obviously, made it very clear. He had scoffed at the fools that let their body being wrecked by some sort- some sort of..
“Brain-cell annihilator,” An all too familiar voice poked him from behind. “Really, Stone?”
“Doctor!” The immediate answer was followed by the agent hastily turning around. The cigarette was left unattended at his side, still burning. Robotnik skipped down the short stairs, gesturing at the cigarette
“Agent Stone, I had expected better, even from you.” He shook his head, a toothy fake grin spread on his face. “Didn’t even think about the possibility of that happening.” Taking in the sight of the agent standing there, that dumb look on his face and that death stick dangling between his fingers, his smile dropped into a sneer.
“Well Doctor-“ the agent began. He was trying to explain himself, cute.
The Doctor, as expected, did not let him finish, instead steamrolling over the agent with his own words “I leave you unattended for him.. What was it now? Twenty minutes, maybe. And I find you squandering the last brain cells you have on,” he didn’t have to finish his sentence, lazily waving his hand in the direction of the cigarette.
“You do know that nicotine does not only kill brain cells?” Robotnik waited for his agent to speak. When no words were formed the Doctor continued
“I can take from your silence that you don’t, typical. Well my sycophant, you often brag about your agility, correct? Of course I am. no brains so you turn to physical strength. Nicotine could be the end for your career since it will worsen your condition, less energy and so forth.”
He looked his agent up and down again. Aban was sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, the cigarette had burned faster, the heated end almost by the agent’s fingers.
“I would put it out if I was you. Before you hurt your little delicate fingers” The Doctor mocked.
Like a child berated by his parents, Aban looked at the cigarette than at the doctor before dropping it in the grass below and deftly stomping it out.
The Doctor let out a low, unimpressed growl “ Classy , not only would you kill yourself with that little cancer stick of yours, you wanted to watch the world burn along to, huh.?” Silence bestowed upon the two. It seemed like it was Stone's turn to take the mic.
“I know it’s a bad habit, sir.” He dug into the pocket of his trousers. Pulling out a simple rag to clean off the ashes that had stayed behind on his tan skin. “But, it helps sometimes. Stress is a virus that spreads quickly in the lab. So..maybe I see it as a way to blow off steam, I don’t know, Doctor.” He shook his head with a coy smile on his face, folded the rag back up and tucked it into the pocket again.
The Doctor dramatically tipped his head back as if to scream to the gods for setting him with such an idiot “I deal with a lot more than you do, on a daily basis.” He returned his intense gaze to Stone “So amuse me , Agent. What is it that is so hard for your little peanut brain to digest or manage that you feel the need to waste your body.”
The younger man opened and quickly closed his mouth. With that look on Robotnik his face he realized that It had been ment as a rhetorical question. A question that should not have been answered by the agent. When he saw the Doctor his eyes glinster with what he could only describe as, oddly enough, triumph he knew that he had made the right decision.
“That's right, you have nothing to “stress” about so why don’t you cut this little habit off.” The agent nodded quickly. They both knew that stopping a habit like smoking was easier said than done. But they would manage. “Agent Stone,” Robotnik is voice suddenly rang again
”You always tell me that you want to be part of the future, a future ruled by me . So for your sake, and for mine, actually try cutting back on those cancer sticks. I don’t feel like filling in all that paperwork again for a new assistant.” And with that, and a dramatic W oosh of the Doctor his lab coat, Robotnik was back up the stairs and Inside the mobile lab.
Agent Stone stood there for a few seconds. This had been the kindest conversation he had with Robotnik in a while. Although he had been berated by him, he saw the undeniable message behind it, the doctor cared enough about Stone to attempt to persuade the younger man out of his smoking habit. Yes, it had not been in the way like a normal person would do it, Robotnik wasn’t a normal man after all. But he had dragged the agent in with the words about the future, their future together.
“Stone! Get in here now. If I find out that you are smoking a death stick right now, while you could be helping me to another latte, I will make sure you can’t even hold anything for about eight to twelve weeks.” The Doctor's voice called from the lab.
A small smile flitted across the agent's features and with the tiniest pep in his step he made his way back into the mobile lab, a step further into their future together.
“Coming Doctor!”
— — — —
The end