Chapter Text
The punch bowl with sherbet floating in it was expected for an office party. It hadn’t needed to be spiked, already alcoholic to begin with-- this wasn’t some high school dance, but a work party of adults who were quite allowed to drink, thank you very much.
Stone wasn’t surprised to see Doctor Robotnik dumping a flask of something into the punch anyway.
It left the punch a different color, actually, from a pale green to a bright blue. Stone glanced up to the Doctor’s face, who waggled his eyebrows at Stone and smirked a bit.
Well, that would be concerning, if Stone wasn’t as interested in seeing these stuffed shirts suffer as Robotnik was. As it stood, Stone kept eye contact with Robotnik as he poured himself a glass, only to pour half of it into a nearby potted plant. Nigh immediately, the plant perked up a bit and its flowers opened, releasing a puff of pollen.
Interesting.
Stone made his rounds of the New Year’s Eve party as he always did at these functions-- they had been wise enough to set out a coffee machine for the Doctor to hover by, at least, and no one approached the doctor directly… but even forcing the pair of them to appear had been a mistake Stone was sure the top brass would live to regret.
On his own, Stone could shmooze his way through these parties without issue. Of course, sir. Oh, very funny, sir. It wasn’t difficult to pretend to be nice. Usually, that’s all it was-- earning the good will of the men in charge of the purse strings, even though this wasn’t technically a budget meeting, these kinds of connections were invaluable when it came time to have those meetings later in the year.
But now… Stone could gesture with his perpetually half-full plastic cup and say, “Oh, sir, the punch is scrumptious . I absolutely recommend you try some, don’t just wait for the champagne before midnight.”
One, two, five… Stone lost count how many people he sent over that way, but he gleefully watched over the evening as the level in the bowl fell lower and lower.
Five minutes until midnight, Stone wasn’t sure he could see a single person at the party that wasn’t visibly high and half undressed, and some of them were actively involved in very uncoordinated slap-fights.
Stone sidled up to the Doctor’s side and said, “Impressive, sir.”
Doctor Robotnik shrugged. “I was expecting more, to be honest,” he said. “Truth serum, psychedelics, and aphrodisiacs? It should be a recipe for chaos, and yet…” He gestured to the crowd, and Stone looked out at the gathered officers and their wives. Infidelity for miles, and there would be drama the following morning, but… it was barely less organized than any party in the o club, and certainly it wasn’t the funny kind of ‘o’ for the moment.
“If these damned things are going to be command performances, the least the hoi polloi could do is perform as they’re expected,” the Doctor continued. “But no, the only fireworks tonight will be those in Time’s Square, for yet another pointless ritual to commemorate the passage of time. I could be doing literally anything else. Bah.” He waved vaguely, and finished, “Well, I’ll tweak the ingredients. See if I can’t get a stronger reaction next year.”
Stone smiled at his Doctor, and said, “I’m sure it’ll be perfect, sir.”
The Doctor looked at Stone, and there was something like a smile in his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure it will be, too,” he said. “I won’t leave it until then to test again. You’ll be my guinea pig, Stone. Whether you like it or not.”
It seemed pretty clear that Doctor Robotnik assumed ‘not’ was the obviously accurate answer here. Stone couldn’t help but gulp and feel his pulse tick up a bit as he said a bit thickly, “Of course, sir-- it’ll be my pleasure.” None of Stone’s involuntary responses could be definitely identified as either fear or embarrassment at a glance, and from the still cruel set to the Doctor’s mouth, Stone was confident that he was still being read as somewhat fearful. Good.
Some drunken shouts were louder than the others had been, and Stone glanced over to see the television, and the ball in New York started to drop. Warbling, inebriated voices started to count down from ten-- loudly, confidently, and totally out of sync and sometimes the wrong numbers altogether, but no one else seemed to notice or care.
Stone glanced back at the Doctor, who’d looked over too, and now wore a look of disgust. For just a moment, Stone entertained the thought that he’d like to kiss the Doctor at midnight. Instead, Stone said, “Nearly done, sir. We can leave directly afterward.”
“I’m aware, Stone,” Doctor Robotnik groaned. “Hate this damned holiday. It can’t be over soon enough.”