Disclaimer: This is something I totally don't own. Because Pokemon.
He knew he was making a scene. He knew grunts were staring. He knew he looked like a complete mess. He knew the Boss wouldn't have any of it. But he didn't care. Archer, highest-ranking member of Team Rocket and second only to Giovanni himself, would rather die a thousand painful deaths at the hand of Team Cipher than experience what had happened only moments ago. Despite all rational thoughts in his mind, he continued to slam the flat of his fist against the heavy walnut door that barred him from his rightful work- his rightful position.
"You can't do this to me, Sir!" he cried, almost hysterically. "I am your lieutenant! This is unjust!" There was no reply from his master- of course there wasn't, Giovanni's word was law, even in this terrible situation- and Archer merely pounded on the door harder. The grunts scattered around the corridor leaned towards each other and began whispering, but the blue-haired executive paid them absolutely no mind whatsoever. This had nothing to do with them; it was between he and Master Giovanni, alone.
"Sir!" he tried again, desperate now, "Sir, please! Without me, Sir, the entire chain of command is broken! Without me to relay your orders, the team will descend into complete and total anarchy!"
"Get the fuck out of here, Archer," came Giovanni's weary, if patient reply from the other side of the door, "we've already discussed this."
"You can't send me away, Sir!" Archer protested, emboldened in his efforts by his superior's voice. "You need me!" He proceeded to pound on the door even harder, shortening slightly the brief pause between them, and was about to open his mouth to protest once more when the door flew open, his fist hitting his boss' chest. A smug smile tugged briefly at the corners of his lips, followed quickly by a wince when one of Giovanni's large, strong hands grabbed him painfully by the hair and dragged him inside. He made sure to close the door behind him, of course, there was no need to allow the common rabble to see what was going on.
"Dammit, Archer," Giovanni growled as he practically threw the small man in front of his desk, "why do you insist on making everything so Mewdamn difficult?"
"I told you, Sir," Archer practically whined as he ran his hands through his hair, attempting to set each lock back into place, "you need me. I am integral to the chain of command, without me-"
"-the base will not descend into complete and utter anarchy, the departments will all get their orders for the day, and I would imagine things would be much much quieter in my office," the boss finished for him, dryly. "This isn't exactly difficult, Archer. I can always use Petrel or Ariana if I need an executive to handle things, and if they are unavailable, there are plenty of messengers from Administration that can serve the same purpose."
"But Sir, I-"
"No, Archer." Archer knew that tone, and knew it well- it left absolutely no room for argument, no room for refusal, and no room for complaints. He lowered his head, completely and utterly defeated, submitting himself fully and unyieldingly to Giovanni's judgment. "It's only one day. Even you need to rest, sometimes. You will take the day off to enjoy yourself, and you will not step one foot near this office, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Master Giovanni," Archer murmured, not unlike Silver when the boy got himself in trouble.
"And just to make sure you don't get any funny ideas about managing any of the other departments for the day, I forbid you to wear your uniform for the remainder of the day," Giovanni continued. Archer waited obediently as his boss sat down behind his desk, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other.
"I- I'm sorry?" he asked. "But- but my uniform, Sir, I can't not-"
"Archer." He shut his mouth and swallowed thickly, attempting to whet his dry throat. Giovanni stared at him dryly, unamused, and he was starting to feel ashamed of himself for fighting his boss on what was really a simple matter, if he thought about it. "It's an order." And that was all he needed to hear. With a polite, subdued smile, Archer bowed low to his superior, as per his usual custom.
"It shall be done, Sir," he said quietly, "I apologize for causing you so much trouble. I shall return tomorrow to stand at your side, once more."
"Do you have to do that?" Giovanni groaned, slumping forward and rubbing his temples. "Dammit, Archer, I've told you, there's no need to be so..."
"Formal? Devoted?" Archer suggested, righting himself as his smile became amused.
"I was going to say 'annoying'," Giovanni admitted, "but I suppose 'grovelling' would work."
"You can use that as an adjective?" Archer laughed. "Well, I suppose one learns something new every day. Are we still going out for drinks with Petrel and Ariana tonight, Sir?"
"Be a good boy and don't try to work, and yes, we will. Now, shoo." Giovanni flicked his wrist, dismissing him as the man returned to his paperwork. "I have things to take care of."
"Of course, Sir." With another bow, Archer turned and left, taking care to close the door quietly behind him. The grunts were still there, waiting wide-eyed to see what would become of the team's second-in-command, and he had to work hard to school his expression back into one of cold disdain.
"Well," he said after a moment of scrutinizing several of them, "get back to work." The effect was instantaneous, the grunts scrambling around as they tried to escape Archer's wrath, and the man did his best to hold his laughter in until they were gone, allowing it to manifest itself as naught more than a quiet chuckle.
As he walked back towards the elevators, he pondered what he could possibly fill his day with. This whole 'day off' thing was completely foreign to him, even though Giovanni did his best to force him into taking one at least once every other month. He supposed he should be trying harder to enjoy them, but he honestly didn't know how. Oh, well. He could always take his houndoom out for a walk and some training in the forest. That would satisfy Giovanni, wouldn't it? It couldn't possibly count as work. But then, what if it did? He could always work on one of his personal projects- but could that count as work, as well? There was always helping Petrel out in his lab- no, no, that was work, definitely.
That evening, when Giovanni asked him what he did on his day off, all Archer could do was shrug and say 'absolutely nothing'.