Disclaimer: A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, an author wrote a disclaimer. And it was good.
Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
Nnh...? Oh... time for work... already...?
Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.
Wait... today's... Friday. Day off. More sleep. Fuckin' alarm...
Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Proton groaned and slapped his hand on the snooze button before turning away from his alarm clock and pulling his pillow over his head. Lugia, was he glad he had two whole extra days off, this weekend. No work, no having to get ready at obscene hours of the morning... He could sleep until noon if he wanted to. Of course, he mused, if he wanted to sleep until noon, hitting the snooze button instead of actually turning his alarm off was probably the wrong move to make, but, hey, maybe if he was awake enough when it went off, again, he'd actually get up and try and get something done. Maybe he'd actually get around to fixing the garbage disposal like he promised Petrel he would three weeks ago. Sometimes, he was thankful that his friend was such a workaholic, otherwise he was quite sure he'd have been getting nagged about it all this time.
Proton was just about ready to try and get back to sleep when there was a knock on his door, and Petrel leaned in the room, grinning broadly. Proton stared groggily at him for a second before shrugging it off and trying to get back to sleep; Petrel laughed.
"Hey, sleepyhead!" he greeted. "Aw, c'mon, don't tell me you forgot, already. We're babysitting Silver, today. Let's go, Sunshine, up and at 'em." Proton simply sighed and pulled his covers up over his head, mumbling something completely unintelligible, even to himself, though he was sure it was supposed to be some sort of insult. Apparently, it was not. "...Alright, yeah, I dunno why you want to try playing hockey with a halibut, but we've got bigger fish to fry, pal. Boss should be stopping by to drop the kid off in thirty minutes, so get your skinny ass up and iron your uniform."
When Petrel finally left, Proton remained in bed for several more minutes before finally, sadly, he pushed the sheets off himself and rolled out of bed, scowling. Truth be told, he hadforgotten about baby-sitting the Boss' kid, and he wasn't exactly thrilled by the fact. As he went to dig in his closet for his casual winter uniform (a simple dark gray blazer over a black t-shirt emblazoned with the Rocket 'R', black slacks, and his regular high-heeled boots) and after combing his hair completely disorientated, jammed his hat over his head and lowered the brim before staggering out into the kitchenette to grope around for the coffee pot.
"Mew, you look like a zombie!" Petrel laughed, scruffling Proton's hair through his hat. "Did you get any sleep, last night?" Proton scowled half-heartedly at him.
"It's too damn early for this, Petrel," he snapped in reply. "Just... just fuckin'... I dunno, man, just fuckin'!" Petrel simply shook his head and opened the fridge, pulling out his coffee creamer.
"Just make sure you're awake when Boss gets here, alright?" he said. "You don't need Archer on your case any more than he already is, bud."
"Whatever," Proton sighed. He finally poured himself a mug of coffee and trudged over to the couch, slumping down in his spot. "Just make sure to keep that fuckin' kid out of my way, got it?" Petrel snorted.
"Oh?" he asked. "Or what?" Proton didn't answer as he coaxed Twitch down to feed the little zubat some M&Ms from the jar on the coffee table.
"Or he'll end up playin' my game," he answered, "and let me be clear, Petrel- no one wants to play my game." Petrel was about to reply when there was a knock on the apartment door, and he paused to glance at it before walking over.
"Don't be such an arrogant douche, Pro. Now c'mon, that's probably them." Proton groaned and stood, popping a few M&Ms into his mouth and letting Twitch perch on his shoulder before getting up to follow Petrel to the door. The two took a moment to look themselves over and make sure their uniforms were relatively neat-looking before opening said door and stepping out into the corridor.
Giovanni stood before them, looking rather neutral, with Archer and Ariana standing behind him and a small, red-haired boy at his side. Petrel quickly stood at attention and snapped off a flawless salute; Proton simply took a sip of his coffee and gave a rather sloppy salute of his own. Archer glared at him over Giovanni's shoulder.
"Sir," Petrel greeted. "Welcome to Johto. I trust traveling was relatively stress-free?"
"As stress-free as it can be, Executive," Giovanni replied. "At ease. I apologize for keeping you from your work- I know I'm already requesting a lot from you." Petrel grinned.
"Oh, it's no trouble, Sir, I love kids," he said. "I can always make time for looking after Silver."
"Ass-kisser," Proton snorted, taking another sip of his coffee. Giovanni shot him an amused glance.
"Bold, for your recent screw-ups, Proton," he said. "Do well this weekend and maybe I'll think about giving you a clean rap sheet- remember that."
"Yeah, alright, whatever." Proton shrugged one shoulder and glanced down at the red-haired boy. "So this is Silver, huh? Gotta say, I'm a little jealous, kid, you got a way cooler dad than I ever had." Silver scowled at him defiantly and hid slightly behind Giovanni. The Boss chuckled and pushed him forward.
"Behave, Silver, and obey these two," he ordered. "I'll return to pick you up on Monday. Archer, Ariana- let's begin our discussions over breakfast. Shall we?"
"Of course, Master Giovanni," Archer said, bowing, "we've already sent word to the cafeteria. Breakfast should be awaiting us in my office." Giovanni nodded, and without another word, turned on his heels and headed back towards the elevator. Ariana and Archer followed shortly after him, both of them sending one last glare at Proton before they turned down another corridor and out of sight. Petrel sighed heavily and then smiled down at Silver.
"So!" he said, "how about we have some breakfast, ourselves, eh? I went shopping while Proton was being a cry-baby, we can have a pancake party." Silver shrugged noncommittally.
"Sure, I guess," he said quietly. "Can you make shapes like you did last time?"
"Of course I can, kiddo. Go put your stuff down and get settled in, and I'll get cracking on that, alright?" Silver nodded and trudged inside, with Petrel and Proton heading into the kitchenette soon after. Proton leaned against the sink as Petrel got down a frying pan and began rummaging around for whatever he needed in the fridge.
"So," Proton said after a moment, "I hope I'm not the only one seeing the problem with this set-up."
"Mm?" Petrel replied. "What d'you mean, Pro?" Proton rolled his eyes.
"Oh, come on, ya can't be that dense." He motioned vaguely off towards the rest of the apartment. "Two bedrooms. Two beds. Three people. You do the math, P. How's this going to work?" Petrel immediately stopped and stood, glancing over his shoulder with a frown.
"That's... not something I even thought about," he admitted. "It's not something that's ever been a problem, before... I mean, the last time I had to watch him was before you moved in, so he just slept in your room... ...Well, shit." Proton face-palmed.
"So he's in my room, right now? Fuck, man, he's prolly goin' through all my shit..."
"Sorry, Pro. You can take my room, if you want, I can sleep on the couch."
"Ha, yeah, and listen to ya whinin' and complainin' in the morning? I don't think so, bastard. Your back problems and that couch do not go well, together. The little brat can sleep on the couch, he can handle it."
"Oh? You wanna be the one to explain why he had to sleep on that damn thing to the Boss? You're in enough hot water as it is."
"So I'll fuckin' sleep on the couch, alright?! Jeez..."
"You can never get to sleep on that couch! I've seen you try, like, twenty times at least, and you never manage it. You're taking my room, no argument."
"I'll fuckin' argue until you give in and let me sleep on the Lugia-damn couch!" The two scowled at each other and crossed their arms almost in synchronization. When it became apparent that neither of them were backing down, Proton decided, what the hell, maybe they could compromise. "...Alright. Alright, fine. I wasn't even gonna suggest this 'cause someone's gonna end up feeling awkward about it all, but... well..." He sighed heavily. "What if we bunked together? I mean, we're pals, we can handle it. Your bed big enough?" Petrel's eyebrows rose significantly.
"I'm sorry?" he asked. "Are you being serious? Man, have you seen my bed? It's barely big enough for two people to fit, and you practically gotta spoon to make it work!" He scuffed at the tile with his foot awkwardly. "Besides, us sleeping together... might not be the best idea." Proton sighed again and dismissed the entire argument with a wave of his hand.
"Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even brought it up. I'll sleep on the couch, alright? And if I can't, I can just go crash in my office. It'll be fine," he said.
"Nooooo," Petrel whined, slouching further. "C'mon, Pro, don't do that. Now you're just making me feel guilty."
"I said I'll sleep on the couch, now make that kid his fuckin' pancakes." Proton pointed towards the range and watched as Petrel dutifully returned to searching for his ingredients. "I didn't mean to make this such a big Lugia-damn deal, alright? Fuck, man..." He shook his head and went to open the closet their washer and dryer lived inside, grabbing a toolbox off of one of the shelves in there. He then rolled up the sleeves on his jacket, removed his hat, and opened the cabinet under the sink before pushing all of their cleaning materials to one side and scooting in to lay under the piping.
"Are you really sure you're okay with it?" Petrel whined. "Dammit, man, I don't want to put you out of a place to sleep for the night..."
"Holy fuck! Petrel! I said it was fucking alright!" Proton said exasperatedly. "Hand me my Lugiadamn flashlight, will you?" Petrel paused from mixing the pancake batter to grab the tiny flashlight from Proton's toolbox and tossed it to him. Proton grabbed it and turned it on, holding it between his teeth as he began to disassemble the pipes. The two worked on with only the sound of the pipes clanking and unbolting and the sizzle of frying batter for a while, until they were met with the sound of soft footsteps.
"Oh, hey, Silver," Petrel greeted. "Room's changed a lot since you last stayed over, huh?"
"What were all those weird magazines on the nightstand?" Silver replied. Proton flung his hands up in irritation and removed the flashlight from his mouth so he could speak.
"I knew it! I knew that fuckin' brat would go digging through my shit!" Petrel glanced down at him disapprovingly.
"Language, Pro," he said, "no corrupting minors, today, alright?" Proton snorted.
"Too late for that," he muttered under his breath. Petrel rolled his eyes and turned back to tend to the pancakes.
"What magazines were they, kiddo?" he asked. "Did you see what was in them?"
"It was 'Play'-something." Both Petrel and Proton immediately froze. "They were filled with weird pictures of naked people." Slowly, the gazes of the two Executives met. Oh, this was not good. This was definitely not good.
"...You left your Playboy mags out," Petrel accused, disbelief etched into every feature of his face. "You knew the Boss' kid was coming, and you left your Playboy mags out."
"I'll, ah... I'll go put those away, then, shall I?" Proton laughed awkwardly and slid out from under the sink, heading immediately for his bedroom. He heard Petrel making some ridiculous excuses, asking Silver to keep quiet about what he saw to everybody, and he couldn't help but snicker at the situation. Oh, of course something like this would happen. Of course. He grabbed the couple magazines from his nightstand and threw them unceremoniously into his closet, taking care to shut the door all the way before heading back out into the kitchenette and resuming his position under the sink. By then, Petrel had given Silver a plate of pancakes shaped like pokemon and was already working on a stack for himself.
"So," Petrel said, "what are we doing today, boys? We got a whole four days to kick back, relax, and have fun, we might as well figure it out."
"Fun?" Proton snorted. "All possibilites of fun went straight out the window when that brat came in, I'm sorry. Twitch, see this? This is a monkey wrench. Look for something like this, but bigger."
"What are you doing?" Silver asked, leaning over the coutner to get a better look as Twitch began searching around in Proton's toolbox.
"I'm fixing the sink," Proton replied. "Petrel decided to jam up the fuggin' disposal, the moron."
"Don't worry about him," Petrel said. "C'mon, Silver, what do you want to do, today? Just, no hide-and-seek, alright? Your old man almost had an aneurysm when I couldn't find you, last time."
"How about the zoo, then? Ariana told me they had loads of new pokemon from Unova... Can we go?"
"Unova pokemon, huh? Hey, I'm down. I have a nephew who lives in Unova, you know, I bet I could tell you loads about the pokemon they have."
"Really?"
"Yeah, sure. Just let me go get changed, alright? Can't be going out in my uniform, now, can I? Pro, you, too, alright?" Proton growled and once more slid out from under the sink, standing to fix Petrel with a glare.
"Why the hell do I have to go?!" he snapped. "Dammit, is being stuck getting that shit out of the pipes enough of torture? What's stuck in there, anyways?!"
"Slowpoke tail," Petrel said off-handedly. "Seriously, you're off to help me take care of Silver, not fix the sink. You're coming with us whether you like it or not, pal." Proton gritted his teeth and turned to aim a kick at the cabinets before going back to his room to change.
Yeah, today was gonna suck.
So, the zoo wasn't so bad. They'd tried to take Petrel's beat-up, old car, but when it wouldn't start, Petrel had to go borrow Ariana's keys while Proton took a look under the hood and determined he needed a new battery. When they'd finally gotten there, Silver had dragged them around to all of the Unova pokemon exhibits (the boy seemed endlessly interested in the dragons, there), which had been boring in and of itself, but once they'd had lunch, Proton had managed to slip away and find something a little more amusing to do- namely, he began wandering around, shamelessly flirting with any pretty girl who looked relatively close to his age. Of course, then there were the concerned friends or parents who were hanging around, who all managed to convince said girls to not follow him off because apparently there was something 'off' about him. Really, what the hell was that all about?
One of the ones who had ruined his fun was a girl's father, about his height, with a similar build. He'd followed the family when they left, long before Petrel and Silver would be finished, and had barely registered taking his switchblade out of his back pocket as he went to wait in a dark, shady alley next to the restaurant the family went to eat at.
When Petrel and Silver had left to go searching for Proton, and found him leaning on Ariana's car with a cigarette clenched between his teeth and a smear of blood on his cheek, they called it a day and returned home. Silver had been a little upset they'd had to leave so soon. Petrel had seemed rather angry. Proton, quite honestly, didn't care. There was nothing wrong, he'd thought, with a little bit of stress relief.
Once they had gotten back, Petrel had pretty much forced Proton to take a shower, and when Proton had come out to return working on the sink, Petrel and Silver had taken up residence at the purple executive's small piano in the corner of the den, playing around with different tunes. Proton was quite surprised to find how talented the both of them were, and contended himself in listening as he finished fixing the sink.
Almost not soon enough, it seemed, it was time to send Silver to bed, and so Proton quickly retrieved his pajamas and his favorite pillow and went to set up his own bed on the couch. Petrel had watched him for all of three minutes before sighing, rolling his eyes, and getting up, grabbing his pillow and marching over to throw it onto his own bed from the doorway into his room.
"Look," he said, "I over-reacted a bit, earlier, alright? It'll be fine. We can bunk together." Proton scowled.
"We already had this entire Lugia-damn conversation," he snapped, "I don't care if you're feeling bad or whatever. I'm sleeping on the-"
"-mothefucking couch, yes, I heard you the first ten times," Petrel finished patiently. "And I'm telling you, if either of us wants to sleep, we have to share the Mewdamn bed. C'mon, let's go." He snapped his fingers and pointed towards his room. "Go get changed. We can just call it a slumber party." Proton shook his head, and yet, he didn't protest.
"You know we'll probably just end up talking all night, anyways," he said. When Petrel chuckled his agreement, Proton slipped into his room and closed the door part of the way behind him, quickly stripping down to his boxers and pulling his nightshirt on over his head. When he opened the door, Petrel quickly slipped inside and closed it fully behind him, heading over to his dresser and changing unabashedly.
"Do me a favor and turn on the news, yeah?" the purple executive asked. Proton grabbed the remote from beside Petrel's small TV and flipped it on, already on the correct channel, before propping his pillow against the bed's headboard and laying back contentedly. Petrel's bedroom was, overall, pretty nice. It didn't have the same charm as his own did, of course (mostly because Petrel's was severely lacking in glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling), but the towering bookshelves covered in all sorts of books and knick-knacks were rather welcoming. The entire room smelled faintly of smoke- his friend really did try his best to only smoke outside, though he was sure there had been some rainy days that had found the executive lighting up inside.
"You're sure you're fine with this, P?" he asked as the news began broadcasting the weather. Petrel glanced over as he finished tying the drawstring on his pajama pants and gave him a lopsided grin.
"Hey, I get to be in bed with Team Rocket's numero uno pretty-boy. You know how many Grunts would kill to be in my position, right now?" he replied, hopping up to kick back next to him.
"That ain't exactly answerin' my question," Proton said. Petrel simply laughed.
"Alright, alright, yes, it's fine, okay? We're pals. We can handle it." He frowned, however, as his gaze snapped to the TV. It seemed the news had decided to move from the weather to the local crime spree in Goldenrod, including the rather brutal, random, cold-blooded murder of a man near the local zoo, earlier in the day. "...Pro."
"Hm?" Proton turned his head almost lazily to face him. "What's up?"
"Please tell me that wasn't you."
"Alright. That wasn't me."
"...It was, wasn't it?" Proton groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Dammit, Petrel, which do you want me to tell you?! Make it easy for once."
"So, let me get this straight- you leave out your porn magazines when you know we have to look after a freaking seven-year-old, we take said seven-year-old to the zoo, and you get bored and go kill some random guy just for fun."
"Nope."
"Don't fucking lie to me, Lance." Proton glared at him.
"Don't call me that," he snarled. "Dammit, Petrel, you know I fuckin' hate that name!" Petrel didn't look amused in the least, but when he didn't say anything, Proton continued. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean for it to get that fuckin' far, I was just wandering around trying to pick up chicks and some bitch's father tells me to take a hike because apparently I had the same look in my eyes as his brother who's a mass-murderer, or some shit, I dunno. It pissed me off, man. You know how I get when I'm angry." Petrel simply continued to stare at him, making him fidget, until he let out a growl and let his head drop back onto his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. "I promise, P, it won't happen again. I'm sorry I ran off, I know I shouldn't have. I ruined today, didn't I?" Petrel's gaze finally softened, and he smiled slightly, laughing.
"I dunno about ruined," he replied, "it wasn't that bad, really. I missed hanging out with a kid, like that. Hell, I hadn't seen Silver in a year, and I never get to see my cousin or my nephew that often... Tab's getting a bit big to be called a kid, I guess, though." Proton grinned.
"You know, I never really pegged you for being such a softie," he laughed. "You'd have made the perfect school teacher."
"You think?" Petrel shook his head. "Nah, I don't think that would go over so well. I used to tutor to make some extra cash before I graduated to Admin, and I always got so damn frustrated when they couldn't get it."
"Aw, c'mon, you would've been great, if you just gave it some effort." Proton nudged Petrel playfully; Petrel gave him a harder nudge back. Small nudges gave way to a shoving war, and that to a full-out grappling battle to pin the other.
They laughed and cursed at each other as they wrestled, almost evenly matched, though Proton had to admit that he'd underestimated his friend's strength, yet again; it was hard to imagine someone so wiry (with back issues, to boot) being able to hold his own in any sort of fight. As usual, that underestimation led to Proton's demise, and he quickly found himself being outmatched. Petrel managed to grab his wrists, and Proton tried his hardest to pull away; Petrel maintained his grip for a few seconds before abruptly letting go, and Proton swore as his own force threw off his gravity and made him fall backwards. Petrel moved quickly, sitting on his stomach and pinning his wrists down to the mattress.
"Gotcha," he said, smirking. "I win again, good sir." Proton snickered.
"Good game," he replied. "Next time, I'll beat you, for sure." Petrel's smirk broadened, and he leaned forward slightly.
"I'd like to see you try," he said quietly. Proton jerked his head, flipping his bangs out of his face.
"Another day, maybe," he said, "today was long as hell, and I think that whole grappling match did me in. I'm dead tired, man. Off, please?" Petrel didn't reply; his eyes flicked casually over Proton, and the greenette frowned. "P, seriously, man. Off. ...P?"
Petrel was starting to lean further, the space between them closing bit by bit. Proton squirmed slightly, frowning. This... was off. This was definitely off, Petrel was seriously acting weird, even for him. Idly, Poton found himself wondering if this was actually just a dream, and if he hadn't even woken, yet. But then, he never killed people in any of his dreams, and he certainly never found himself pinned awkwardly under his best friend, who he was quite certain was actually checking him out. Yeah, okay, this was getting awkward, fast.
As if sensing his thoughts, Petrel abruptly righted himself and rolled off of him, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry," he murmured. "Ah... goodnight, I guess. I'll turn the TV off in a little while, hope you don't mind."
"Nah, nah, man, it's cool," Proton replied. "We're cool. G'night." Without another word, he clambered under the sheets and turned onto his side to stare out the window. Eventually, he heard Petrel move on to some random late-night sitcom or another and he couldn't help but wonder why, overall, this just seemed so natural to him. Even with that awkward ending to their little wrestling match, nothing seemed relatively out of the ordinary; even the voices from the TV and that annoying laugh track, things that would have kept him up under any other circumstance, were slowly lulling him to sleep, and even the heat he could feel Petrel radiating from their close proximity (his bed was a little on the small side) didn't really bother him.
Dammit, Proton, he berated himself, scowling half-heartedly, you're thinking too much. Just get over it and go the fuck to sleep.
Never, for the life of him, could Proton ever remember falling asleep so easily.
Adfbwefgdf, little bit of li'l!Silver in this, not much. He'll show up again, eventually. Recently, I've subscribed to the idea that Petrel is Grimsley's uncle; I'd probably peg him about nine or ten by this? Also, and this has been something I've been sitting on since Petrel's HGSS design was released, I find that Tabitha of Team Magma and Petrel actually look pretty similar, so I'm convinced they're cousins, or something. Tab is about twelve, by now. As for the Execs, by this chapter, Proton's almost 18, Petrel's around 20-ish, and Archer and Ariana are almost in their 30's... I dunno why this is important, but it is, so there will be a test at the end of this story. Take notes!
Also, for some reason, I keep imagining Proton with a very thick urban accent, like he was from NY. Maybe the Bronx. I dunno. XD