AN. Please bear with me and all the jumping around in time. This is the most effective way I could think of to do this, and I rather like it :D
September 1988.
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Before him was a grand battlefield...the widely-recognized court patterns drawn not in the usual chalk or spray-paint, but embedded into the solid concrete ground in fine marble. Any doubts Jirarudan had about Giovanni's power up until now immediately vanished. Though he had never been in a Pokémon battle in his life, the Collector found himself taken aback by the battlefield. It was surrounded on all sides by walls too tall to climb. Two small balconies, one on the opposite side of the field from the other, jutted out of the intimidating walls; it was clear that each of the Trainers were to stand here. It was a beautiful sight indeed, and Jirarudan found himself wishing that he had walked in during a battle, so he could witness this architectural beauty for all that it was made to be. His apparent daydream was cut short by a somewhat menacing voice.
"You do not appear to be a Trainer."
Jirarudan, slightly shocked, looked up to where the voice had come from. A man had emerged from a different room, now standing at the edge of one of the balconies.
"If you do not wish to battle me for the Earth Badge, what is it you are here for, Collector?"
Forgetting for a moment that his robes had signaled this omnipotent-sounding address, the young man fumbled with his thoughts before he could organize them into coherent words.
"I...I seek an audience with the leader of this Gym." Jirarudan had not expected to be so intimidated by the man. After all, no one had ever intimidated him in his life.
The dark figure above smirked. "Very well. Enter the doors to your left," he said very simply, and disappeared back into the darkness from whence he came. Jirarudan glanced left. In all his distraction of this architectural wonder before him, he had taken no notice of two rich mahogany doors with golden handles. The doors did not match the otherwise metallic and dark structures surrounding it, but they nonetheless seemed to blend in. Jirarudan swallowed a lump in his throat he had not previously put any thought to and entered the foreboding, doors ahead.
The room was far larger than it needed to be, the walls tall enough to hold two stories, but instead surrounded a single desk, clearly made from the same wood as the doors. The dark figure was seated in a black leather chair behind the desk, stroking a lithe and beautiful Persian beside him, and gestured silently for the Collector to have a seat in one of the two simpler dark red chairs on the opposite side of his empty workspace. Jirarudan sat, and cleared his throat once more.
"Giovanni, I presume?"
"Yes," the addressed nodded. "And your name, Collector?"
"Jirarudan Kaga, sir." He suddenly realized that he was unable to remove his gaze from Giovanni's dark, intense eyes. Something about this man just eminated absolute power. Had Jirarudan known nothing about him, this man would still intimidate the young Collector. He found this simply terrifying, and his voice was far less clear that he had originally intended it to be when he said, "I am returning to my...hobby...my Collecting, that is..." What's wrong with me! he screamed internally. With some difficulty, he forced himself to be articulate. "For the past three years, I have been living...a much different life than that of a Collector, and I wish very much to return to my former occupation." He cleared his throat for the third time that evening. "Your Pokémon and your Gym have a reputation that thrives in every Region of this world. And for lack of a better way to phrase it, rumours have been circling that tell me you have obtained the DNA of Mew, and wish to produce a clone."
Giovanni's ever-present smirk seemed to grow more intense. "Yes, that is correct. I have founded a new laboratory to further research the discovery." He leaned forward slightly. "Do you wish to Collect the resulting cloned Pokémon from me? For if you do, that will be an exceedingly difficult task and the cost would be far greater than you could imagine."
"No! No, sir," Jirarudan stammered out. I sound ridiculous. Absolutely illiterate. He probably thinks I'm entirely unworthy of his presence, and won't want to put up with my company a second time... Jirarudan paused at his own thoughts. Wait, what? A second time? I won't need to converse with this man after today, I imagine. Why would a thought like that even-
"-forgive me for interrupting your daydream, Jirarudan dear, but I don't have all day."
What did he just-? the Collector's face flushed, and he was thankful that this room was not exceedingly well-lit. "I apologize," he spat out, rather quickly. "I wish to discuss the location of your discovery. If there are any fossils...or anything else of historical significance remaining at the site, I would like very much to make it my own."
The man behind the desk nodded in agreement. "Of course." He then did something rather unexpected. He stood up from his black chair and walked around his desk, taking a seat in the second red chair beside the Collector. Jirarudan's face was now pinker than before, for reasons he could not explain. Out of fear, perhaps. "I have not shared information with the media, nor with anyone I have not met or do not trust-"
"-oh!" Jirarudan interrupted. "No, I would not expect you to, I will pay any price that you-"
"-but I have no hesitations about discussing it with you."
Jirarudan's heart seemed to miss a beat or two entirely. He trusts me with such information? After my awkward first impression? He blinked a few times, and leaned one ear slightly closer to the man who was now sitting beside him in questioning. "N..no hesitations?"
Giovanni's smirk widened enough to barely reveal his gleaming white teeth momentarily, before answering, "Something about you tells me that you have no one to tell. That," he continued, reaching out his hand, "and your pink cheeks scream how intimidated you are." His hand rested under Jirarudan's chin, his index finger barely making contact, but it was enough for Jirarudan to lift his head up, now staring directly into those piercing eyes..."I don't need to tell you that you would do well to not upset me."
"No, sir," the Collector said, doing his damn best to speak clearly with such a powerful man just inches from his face. "I would...not want to do that," he managed to choke out.
Giovanni let out a soft, dark chuckle.
"You are an excellent capture."
Now, the young Collector was certain he was hearing things, or perhaps that he had gone mad and was hallucinating this entire sequence of events. He tried to speak, but only one word escaped his throat, "...sir?" His palms were sweating, and he knew not what to do with his composure. Giovanni's eyes narrowed.
"You would do well to call me Giovanni, Jirarudan dear." His hand now took a firmer hold on Jirarudan's chin, pulling the young man's face towards his own.
The Collector's eyes unconsciously closed as their lips met in the most terrifying, wonderful kiss Jirarudan had ever experienced.