And here we are with Chapter Four. I think this may, actually, be the shortest chapter in the entire fic. I mean it. It's only about 800 words. I was even surprised. It's really mostly filler, I apologize about that, but it's necessary. The action starts again next chapter. As a warning, this chapter contains a few instances of harsh language. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon, Team Galactic, or any of the main characters in general. I do own this story, the particular characterizations portrayed within, as well as the individual and assorted background characters. This story cannot be used without my express verbal and written permission.

December 16, 2000.

43 Malachite Street, Apartment 12

Veilstone City

3:47 AM

Cyrus was startled by the sudden sound of the door opening in his apartment. Looking around his empty room, he quickly threw back the covers and stood up, gathering the firearm he kept near the bed. He was only in his boxers, comfortably warm under the mass of quilts in the bed. Compared to the frigid apartment, his body instantly shivered; Cyrus swallowed and stifled the emotion. Taking off the safety, he eased open the door and crept down the hall.

He was surprised to see that a light was on in the living room; however, that could just be a ruse. Stealthily, he paused in the bathroom, hearing a few mumbled curses. Gathering his strength, he spun out of the door and tackled the figure that was standing in the hall.

"Do not move," he hissed, straddling the strange person. He pressed the gun to the figure's head, so the message was clear. "What are you doing here?" Cyrus demanded hoarsely.

"Speak!" He shouted, shoving the barrel into the man's ear.

Squirming, the man held out his hands underneath the elaborate fur coat, flat on the floor. "What the hell, Boss? I've got a fucking bruised ribcage here!"

Cyrus deftly stepped to his feet, putting the safety back on the gun. "Scott."

Gathering his coat about his lanky body, Gregori got to his feet and glared at Cyrus. "You have some real fucking issues, Boss." He shrugged, biting his tongue to keep from screaming from the pain in his ribs. Sighing, he sat down on the couch, crossing his legs and letting the coat drape around him.

Cyrus could see the bandaged ribs and Gregori's left arm taped closely to his side. He twirled on the spot and vanished into the bedroom; Scott took the opportunity to light up a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, ignoring the twinge from his ribs, he looked around the apartment.

The man didn't seem to be a real collector of…stuff…per se, but the apartment was comfortably furnished. Gregori didn't know what was fashionable (as he'd only kept up with that on his desginer clothes), but he could tell that the furnishings were expensive. One thing was for certain, Cyrus didn't skimp on himself.

Gregori exhaled in a long stream as Cyrus exited from his bedroom, suitably dressed in a pair of pajamas. Barely sparing a glance to his companion, Cyrus moved over to the wall of computers atop his dining room table and sat down, immersed in his own work.

"Now what?" Gregori broke the silence of the apartment in his snide tenor. "I'm sure you didn't invite me over for cocoa with Razz Berries."

Cyrus continued his scans, clicking here and there occasionally. "Patience is a virtue." He finally replied, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Gregori rolled his eyes and extinguished his cigarette.

December 16, 2000.

26 Rockslide Avenue, Mayor's Residence.

Veilstone City.

6:01 AM.

The Mayor awoke to the sounds of her secretary opening the curtains in her room. Groaning, she turned over, trying to block out the sound of the other woman moving around.

"Mary-Jane, what time is it?" She asked groggily.

"It's after six." The prim woman replied. "I need your approval to start closing schools."

Yawning, Jennifer sat up, clutching the warm blankets about her body. She rubbed her eyes sleepily before glancing at the window.

"Wow, snow."

The dancing snowflakes outside of the window sparkled even under the heavy cloud cover. Apparently, a storm had blown down from Snowpoint sometime in the night. The Mayor knew that Helena of On-the-Spot Weather was really messed up for not predicting this one.

The Mayor threw back the covers and jumped quickly to the desk across the way, where Mary-Jane had spread out the official document that could close the schools for the day. Jennifer checked the document, listing the accurate predictions of the snowfall (straight from the National Weather Institute in Hoenn) before nodding and signing quickly.

"Eh. Let the kids have a snow day." She said, glancing about for her glasses. Before heading for her private bathroom, she turned to Mary-Jane, who was gathering the Mayor's documents in her briefcase. "One more thing…"

"Yes, Madam Mayor?"

Jennifer rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She stepped closer to her secretary and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I…I have this funny feeling…I think there might have been a Mismagius in my room last night; I woke up and heard whispering…"

Mary-Jane straightened. It wasn't a thing to be taken lightly; a person haunted by a Mismagius was eventually driven mad by hallucinations. If it was suspected by anyone else that the Mayor had Mismagius infection, it would further damage her ratings at the polls and her campaign for reelection.

The blonde nodded. "I'll have someone look into it, Madam Mayor."

Jennifer smiled. "Thanks."

And then she disappeared to prepare herself for another day.