I'd love some reviews. I do take my time to write this shit, y'know.

And another note. Annie gives her dress size later on in this chapter. I am a British Citizen, therefore I use British sizing. Size 10 or 12 is the average teenage girl's dress size here; I believe that in the US that is something like a 6 or an 8, but don't quote me on that.

Chapter Four

Consequence is an awkward thing, especially when it collects like dew on one of those jungle leaves until it is large and dangerous enough to slide off and fall to the forest floor. At this point in consequence's lifespan, it tends to follow like a particularly loyal growlithe the person it is associated with. Each action, each word and each step makes consequence more and more powerful until it evolves into an arcanine. Then shit hits the fan, pardon the French.

If Annie's theoretical growlithe were to pounce from the shadows now, she wouldn't have been at all surprised. She signed her life away that day, under Jared's hypocritical gaze, signing with a scratchy flourish at the bottom of a long document that stated, in essence, that she belonged to Team Rocket.

It all seemed to happen slowly after that.

She was shown back along the underpassage by Proton, his hand on her shoulder. He was tall- a least six foot two- and he was much bulkier than she remembered that Jared had been, even if he was still quite slim for a guy. Then again, the only memories she had of him were of a lanky, greasy-haired teenager, nothing like the confident, cruel man he was now. She did some calculations in her head and realised that he'd left seven years ago, when she was ten, a further six or seven years after Alec had escaped. She wondered idly who would follow the migratory pattern next.

"So, fill me in." Proton asked as they travelled the seemingly endless passages. "Tell me everything."

"…There isn't much to tell. You of all people know nothing happens where we lived."

"No, I mean, how did you end up with Kaylee?"

"Oh." She told him the story as briefly as she could; in fairness it was a pretty brief story to begin with. It sounded so short in comparison to how long it felt- it seemed as though years and years separated the Annie that kicked stones in the power plant and the one that walked the underpassage with Proton by her side. They weren't different people, she understood, merely different mindsets. There was a new confidence in her that allowed her to hold her chin high and her back straight.

"It sounds like you have raw talent." He observed, punching in a code. "But it'll have to be honed before we can use it. We're rapidly expanding, and that's bringing problems in itself, plus the Boss's plans are getting a little ambitious. We need all the manpower we can get."

"Or womanpower."

He raised an eyebrow at her comment. "Look, I know our situation is weird… but I'm still your superior, and I have a reputation for wrathfulness. Let's keep it strictly business, yeh?"

"Okay. Sorry." She nodded. "Can I have some clothes now?"

The hint of a blush graced his cheeks, but left soon after. "Ah, that would be a good idea."

A door appeared to snap into existence next to them, even though Annie knew she'd just not been paying attention to it. Proton swiped his cardkey and they emerged from the oppressive chill of the corridors into a large, well-furnished room full of reclining Rockets, in various states of uniform and awakening. She spotted Jordan and Dean, hair ruffled and eyes sleepy, sitting in the corner mumbling. All the activity seemed to freeze as Proton entered, with caps hastily pulled over bed-hair and boots tugged onto besocked feet.

"Good morning, A-Squad!" Proton boomed, surveying his underlings with a practiced cruel ease. "Nice to see you all ready for action!"

They scrambled up to stand to military attention, looking shell-shocked. "Now, that's better. We have an interesting schedule today, ladies and gents. The Pokémon Convention opens this afternoon, and we know what that means!"

"Yes, sir!" they chorused.

"Indeed." He chuckled, sparing a glittering glance for Annie before continuing. "A jackpot! This is our chance to etch Team Rocket's name into the history books for good! I expect the best from all of you, understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Good. Crews One and Two will be Initials today-" there was a groan. "-Shut up. Three and Four, you're Snatching, and Five is Cleanup. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Off to your stations, then! We have four hours until blast-off!"

Annie watched as they ran off, leaving the room almost deserted. Jordan and Dean seemed to have been able to anticipate Proton's will and walked demurely towards them, stifling yawns.

"Ah, you two. Excellent. Annie here needs kitting out and training up. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." The automated response was beginning to grate on her nerves a little.

"Dismissed." He slunk off, presumably back to his office, lighting a cigarette as he went. The door slid to a close behind him and they were left together in a sort of awkward silence.

"So." Dean begun, scrutinizing her. "How did you get that skin back?"

"Hospital sprayed it on."

"Seriously? Coolio!" he poked her face, expecting it to squish or run off or something equally as idiotic. "Aww. Still, I'm glad you're alright. Raf was having kittens. He even sent over his gyarados to get you."

"He was?" that was strange. Raf didn't strike her as the caring type.

"Yeah. The last time I saw him so anal was when with that Old Lady's Victreebel."

Jordan sniffed, as though remembering something terrible. "Anyway. Let's go. I'm not missing that Convention."

"Geez, Okay, Sir Jordoc the Rigid. Cool your beans." Dean flipped him off, but he turned around and started walking briskly for another door.

They shared a look and ran after him, catching up in time for him to swipe his card and let them back into the underpassages.

"I hate this place." Dean said. "It gives me the willies."

"Shouldn't you have the willies anyway?" she asked, grinning. She liked Dean. He was easygoing but not as outrageous as Raf, nor as self-destructive.

"You'll never know." He winked in reply. Jordan wove an interesting route through the network of roads, mumbling under his breath. He didn't seem like a morning person, or perhaps he was this anal all the time.

After a while, they came upon a lift that was suspiciously similar to the one that Annie and Kaylee had come down on and piled in, pressing the 'B3F' button. Annie supposed that they must be on B4F, then. Jesus, this place was massive. She made a mental note never to set off unless she was with somebody who knew the routes. At least her coat wasn't billowing up as they ascended. Small mercies.

As they walked, Annie examined Jordan and Dean. They were both in their late teens, at least- a couple of years older than her. Dean was short and stocky, bearing some visible muscles and closely cropped brown hair. His skin was quite dark, implying that he was Cinnibarian or even originally from outside of Kanto. Jordan was the opposite- tall, slim and blonde, with hair that had a sand-like colour to it. She felt very ordinary in comparison to the cast of characters in her new life. Annie was wispish, with no visible curves, and dull brown hair and eyes. She supposed that if she really tried, she could be beautiful, but it was a long shot at best. Perhaps she should ask Kaylee.

Perhaps it didn't matter, really.

"Do you know your size?" Jordan asked politely as they entered a large stockroom filled with boxes.

"Uh, 10, I think."

"Skirt or trousers?"

"Skirt."

"Shoe size?"

"Six." He ran off and began to pull various items of clothing out of boxes that were scattered around.

"Dean, wanna get the rest?"

"What's the magic word?"

"Dean, get the fucking rest." He shouted from far inside a box of gloves.

Dean tutted. "Someone pissed in his coco-pops this morning."

"Really?"

"No, it's a saying."

"Oh." She gave him a bashful smile. Dean rolled his eyes and promised to be back in two ticks of a tauros's tail, disappearing into an adjoining room.

"Here." Jordan offered her a set of clothing. "Try it on."

"Is there any… underwear?"

He looked appalled. "Lord save me… I forgot. Sorry. I'll show you, you can pick some."

Leading her to the back of the room, he pointed to a small box of ordinary white underclothes for women and ran off, presumably to 'help' Dean. Annie picked out some pairs and with a blissful sigh, put them on. She'd been waiting for that for too long. She then could try on the uniform over it. A long-sleeved black top of thick polycotton tucked into a standard trainer's belt- six clips of pokéballs, three each side. She had her suspicions as to the minimal length of the skirt, but knew better than to complain. A small pair of thin black shorts was provided to go underneath and improve mobility.

It was only as she pulled on a pair of grey boots that she felt something of her old self slip away. It was not as such something that she could categorise, or even identify, but she felt it keenly and almost- an important almost- wept. Too much had changed. She was out of her comfort zone, however confident she had become, and there was an element of uncharted danger in relation to her being, her 'soul', if you like. Identity had never been particularly important to Annie; she knew who she was, even if who she could be was always an issue, but now… it just seemed more difficult, was all.

Jordan and Dean came back with that thought as she was putting on her gloves. It was a professional outfit, for sure, and completed with the signature black cap, it had a strange power to it.

"Lookin' good, Annie." Dean high-fived her. "Here, we got you some shit. Mobile phone, spare pokéballs, the shiz."

"Thanks." She took the gear, connected the minimised balls to her belt, including her own zubat, and put the phone in its handy pouch.

"'Aight. We got stuff to do, but I know someone who has all the time in the world who can train you…"

Kaylee was not a happy bunny.

It was meant to show initiative, to recruit new members on the road- surely Alec Cooper's daughter was of worth, even if there was no trace of him at their house? It should've shown that she was hardworking and charismatic. But no, of course, all she'd really earned was more time in domestics, the most boring and menial job in Team Rocket. She'd have the distinguished honour of cleaning toilets, mopping floors, doing ironing, folding laundry and making beds. What more could a criminal ask for?

She shouldn't be complaining. Kaylee wasn't in any position to complain- who was she but a lowly grunt? Still, she hoped that at some point her career would take off and she'd be amongst the execs. It wasn't for want of trying, because Kaylee Moore did try- more than she should, really. More than was necessary. It was something she'd inherited from her older brother, Daniel, even if they were on different sides. While he'd been the golden boy of the family- smart, good with pokémon, bright future ahead of him, and Kaylee had always sort of basked in his shadow. It hadn't been a problem when she was a child, but when she'd had her own dreams, her own aspirations, she'd realised that they'd been forgotten under Daniel's flair.

That was when she became rebellious. It'd been her fourteenth birthday, and Daniel had just won his seventh gym badge, coming home to a massive celebration. They'd forgotten about her. Incensed by what she saw as a final act of betrayal, Kaylee had upped and left that very night and never returned.

Of course she'd struggled. Her family had lived in Pewter City, so she'd escaped through Mt. Moon, where she'd met a strange scientist looking at fossils. He'd needed a dogsbody; she'd needed money. She didn't realise that she'd begun working for Team Rocket until a few weeks later when she heard a police report about criminal activity. Eager to please, and to be necessary for the first time in her life, she'd signed up and never looked back.

Except for now, of course.

"Kay?" It was Raf, looking casually beautiful as usual. The beginnings of a beard on his chin gave him a rugged look, but when he flicked about his curly black hair there was no mistaking him for a smooth gentleman. He was wearing the winter coat that fell to well below his knees and a red scarf slug about his neck, cap on sideways. Raf had always been able to get away with anything he wanted: he infuriated Kaylee to no end.

"What d'you want?" she asked, voice tired and scratchy from the early start.

"My gyarados." She took the ball off her belt and tossed it at him. He caught it. Of course Raf would catch it. "What's up?"

"Domestics."

"Low!" she could feel him sniggering behind his dark eyes. "How's Annie?"

"I haven't seen her since Proton threw me outta his office, have I?"

"Shit." He looked genuinely worried.

"What're you up to, Raf?"

"Nuthin'."

"Liar."

"Of course I'm lying. Figuring me out turns you on, so I thought I'd be mysterious."

"Eck. I wouldn't touch you with a barge pole." She flipped him off.

"Your loss, sweetheart." He stuck his tongue out. "I'll leave you to brood and sweep, then?"

He turned to leave, and Kaylee reluctantly set down the cloth she was holding, grabbed her cap and followed him out. "I hate you, Rafael."

"You and the whole rest of the female population of Kanto. 'Cept one..." He said slyly, stretching his languid arms with a big yawn.

"Oh, hell no."

"Oh, hell yes, my friend."

"I forbid it! She's like… sixteen!"

"And?" he challenged with an eyebrow. "Who're you to decide?"

"Raf, she's just left home and nearly been killed! Last thing she needs is your grubby hands all over her!"

He winked. "I'll wash 'em first."

"Why does everyone call Jordan Jordoc?" Annie asked curiously as she was lining up in a massive cafeteria with Dean. "Sir Jordoc, like."

He sniggered, taking the tray allocated to him. "Avoid the horseradish."

"That's not an answer." She took his advice and went for the chicken salad instead. "And why were you lot up near Lavender anyway? Surely you can tell me now."

"Beans." He told the server. "It's a long story."

"Really? Peas."

"Yes." He grabbed a bottle of spring water and made an empty table. It reminded Annie of her school cafeteria, but filled with a sea of black hats and bickering criminals. She'd dropped out of school two years ago, so it was a bit nostalgic.

They sat down. "Can you tell me now?"

"Eesh. You don't let up, do you?" he gulped down his drink. "Well, me, Kaylee, Raf and Jordan are a crew. Crew 5, to be exact, of A-Squad. It's how we're organised, see? We do all our jobs together. We were meant to be doing Vermillion City, but basically Raf is a jackass. He fucked something- or rather, someone- up, and news got around to the execs, so they send us to god-forsaken Lavender instead."

"Send to…?"

"Steal pokémon." He said. "Duh. Get it into your head; it's what we do most of the time. Well, our bit, anyway- the scientists are up to their armpits in the Boss's special projects and wild dreams."

"What kinds of projects?" she asked after swallowing a big bite of tasteless lettuce.

"How'm I to know, Annie? I'm no sci-fi-guy. Stuff with pokémon. Experiments."

"Like?"

"Hello, ladies!" A tray slammed down opposite Annie, next to Dean, making him jump a mile. Raf's big, beaming smile dazzled them as he practically jumped down onto the bench, followed by a stressed-looking Kaylee. "'Sup?"

"The ceiling, numbnuts."

"My nuts get plenty, thanks for the offer." He chuckled, cracking open a tube of smarties and tossing seven into the air. He caught them all in his mouth and crunched them about. "Speaking of, how're you doin', Annie?"

"Good, thanks."

"Nice to see you got your skin back." He twirled some spaghetti around his fork in a pseudo-sexy fashion. "What're you up to now? I see you're in uniform. Sticking around?"

"Yes, I thought I would."

"Great? Are you raiding with us this afternoon?"

"No. I have to train first."

"Of course." He reminded himself. "Basic Training. Fun times. Who's taking you through it?"

"The only person not raiding this afternoon, of course."

All heads turned to Kaylee, who was poking the horseradish glumly. "Me. Thanks for the support, guys."

"Aww, if you train with Kaylee you'll end up with a massive stick up your-" Dean's fist met the side of his head, sending Raf under the table with a crash. "What? Just sayin'…"

"Well, don't. It's the shit that Kaylee has to do domestics, and we should very well stay behind and help her, but I don't see anyone volunteerin'."

"Duh. Why would we? Domestics is boring as snorlax sex." Raf fished out a packet of fags from one of his coat pockets and lit up with that 'I-don't-care' flourish that only assholes can pull off. "Not that I know what snorlax sex is like."

"Yeh, yeh, we've seen your laptop, Raf." Dean snorted. "Red-hot magikarp lovin', Volume 3."

"I love you too." Raf made a silly, kissy face and put his feet up on the table. "I'll steal in your place, brave comrades!"

"I thought I heard your beautiful voice." Jordan drawled, approaching the table with a very smug look on his face. "Check my epaulets, asshole."

"Your what?"

"…Just look." He swivelled around to show where military-style stripes were sewn onto the upper arm of his uniform top. He had two horizontal gold stripes; more than Dean, Raf or Kaylee were in possession of.

"Oh, fuck-a-farfetch'd." Raf poked the second stripe. "You seriously got a promotion?"

"Read 'em and weep, grunts. Jordan is moving up in the world."

"Take a chill pill, Jordoc, and come sit with us lowly 'grunts'. Y'know, your friends?" Raf offered him a smartie, though he declined politely.

"Naw. I just came here to gloat- I've got lots of work to do, organising the raid and everything."

"You can go stick a-"

"That's enough, Raffy." Kaylee patter him on the shoulder in a friendly manner. "Go off and do your shit, Jordan. Have sex with your new stripe, if you want."

"Now you've mentioned it, I will." He huffed, turning on his heels and striding off.

"I'm confused. Do we like Jordan or not?" Annie asked, peeling off the lid of a low-fat yoghurt. "And for pete's sake, why do you call him Sir Jordoc?"

They all sighed in unison. "Jordoc's got big dreams. He's the youngest of six, and all his other siblings are big-shots. Inferiority complex, y'get'me?"

"I see. But why-"

The loud bell rung out, sounding like a klaxon, and a voice began to blare from loudspeakers positioned around the room. "This is Proton. Will the lazy fucks in the cafeteria get off their arses and congregate in briefing room B. Reapeat, lazy fucks to briefing room B. That is all."

"He's got such a stellar sense of style don'cha think?" Dean joked darkly, setting his knife and fork down. "Well, I suppose me and Raf are off. We'll rendezvous later, mkay?"

"'Aight. Have fun." They got up and left, pulling their caps on as they went.

Then Annie and Kaylee were alone again.