IV. Corners and Consequences
"Coming over tonight, babe?"
Cassidy could imagine Tyson licking his lips and he asked her this. Her stomach churned. She gripped her PokeGear harder so it wouldn't drop from her weak, trembling hand. "No. Not tonight."
"Why not?"
Cassidy struggled to come up with a plausible reason. "I'm…trying to limit myself."
Tyson snorted. "You can't overdo sex, babe. Even pregnant ladies will—"
"Shut up. I don't feel well anyway," Cassidy snapped. Her involuntary temper was at it again. "And I'm not yours so don't even get into the delusion that I'll always come back!"
She hung up, fuming, fell back against the wall of the third floor lounge, furiously rubbing her temples in an attempt to relieve what she could already tell was going to be a horrendous migraine. She heard a snerk from the doorway. All too familiar… She didn't even need to glance up to diagnose the source of it.
"What do you want, Proton?"
Proton stepped into the room and rested his gloved hands on his hips. He smirked evilly. "You ought to address me with more respect, Miss Cassidy. I am your superior, after all."
"Don't remind me," Cassidy grimaced, lifting her head from her hands to shoot him a look. He was the last person she wanted to see her like this. "And you're absolutely psychotic if you think I'll start calling you 'sir.' It'll never happen!"
Proton smirked and sauntered closer. "You're feisty, aren't you? And I hear you're quite the little skank, too…"
"What-?"
"Everyone knows about Tyson. Wendy texted me."
Cassidy clenched her fists and made a mental note to self to strangle Wendy the next time she saw her.
"Dammit."
"So were you planning on telling Archer? You know how he feels about relationships between co-workers." Proton's smile widened. His emerald eyes flashed and Cassidy's throat burned as corrosive acid rose from her boiling stomach and into her esophagus. "I bet he already knows, hm? News around here spreads like Flash Fire."
"I'll ask again: what do you want?" Cassidy glared daggers at him. If looks could kill, Proton would have been reduced to a squirming pulp.
"I can't simply speak with one of my employees? Humph. I don't appreciate rudeness either."
Cassidy's jaw tightened. "I'll ask again—"
"I want in."
"What do you—wait. What?"
"You want a promotion, Miss Cassidy. Do you not? Your distaste for your partner is no secret."
"A…promotion?" Cassidy's mind went slack as Proton stood not two feet away from her, a hand on the wall above her. Cassidy stood and pressed herself against this wall, and tried to inch away slowly. "Hutch isn't that bad…"
"You mean 'Butch,'" Proton corrected her. He was only a foot away now and she had reached the corner, nowhere else to go. "Are you ambitious? I could promote you to Elite Officer. Give you Domino's job, maybe. But only if you're up for it."
She pressed her shoulder hard into the corner and readied her knee to meet his groin if need be. Yes, she was extremely ambitious. This was trademark of any non-grunt Rocket operative. Giovanni only chose the crème of the crop and merely humored Jessie and James. But Cassidy had strong doubts about the way Proton wanted to be repaid for his "kindness" and she knew there was no way on Earth that she'd ever oblige.
At the same time, however, she thought of Domino, that blonde bitch, Proton's girlfriend. What exactly he saw in her, Cassidy had no inkling of an idea. On the outside, she was a scheming lunatic, but Cassidy realized that in her present position she was not one to judge.
She shivered and turned her head away from him. He had a hand on each wall. She was a second away from making him impotent with her kneecap. He whispered in her ears, slowly, carefully enunciating, adding just a bit of tongue on the fine hairs, "I heard what you do to Tyson… That's all I ask in return. One night. All night. I've got stamina and—"
"No!"
"You're making a mistake."
A sudden idea sprang into Cassidy's mind: the image of that girlfriend of his on her knees, sobbing her eyes in reaction to the news that Proton had cheated on her with her worst rival. Domino and Cassidy absolutely detested one another, and this deep-set loathing originated from back when they were Rocket trainees. Domino always outshone Cassidy at everything. She was Giovanni's favorite, the exact position Cassidy so desired, with a division of grunts at her disposal and complete dominance (no pun intended) over capture missions. Unfortunately, Domino was smarter, faster, and a better leader, or so everyone claimed, even though Cassidy was two years older and had joined Rocket at the crisp age of fourteen while Domino flew up in the ranks after only joining at age sixteen. Cassidy literally (and metaphorically) stabbed Domino in the back at every possible opportunity. Just the sound of Domino's name sent angry revulsion through Cassidy's freezing, cold veins. To see Domino so submissive, in so much pain…and to laugh like to cold sadist she was…
And then Cassidy remembered Butch's eyes, so flat, so hurt, denying everything so obviously. She couldn't do it.
"I don't need to sleep with my boss to move up in the ranks. I'm more competent than that," Cassidy snapped, shoving her palms into Proton's strong shoulders. She pushed him away and tried to move on with her life.
He didn't budge. "My office or yours?" he muttered into her aggravated ear.
She rammed her bent knee as hard as she could into his un-expecting crotch.
"Neither," she said as he crumpled to the ground. "Hmph."
