Hey look! An update! Again, I'm soooooo sorry this is late. I've been way beyond busy, it's insane. I will be updating again on schedule, every Sunday, now that I've finished the impromptu factchecking. Excitment!

New character alert! And this chapter's pretty tame.

Disclaimer: You can't use this without permission. It's my story. Get your own.

December 16, 2000.

56 Adamantium Avenue: Veilstone Penal and Correctional Facility

Veilstone City

9:07 AM

It took Police Chief Henry Griffin an extra fifteen minutes to drive to work because of the snow. Gritting his teeth, he praised his decision to switch to his "winter Raticate" (a late model domestics car that could handle the snowdrifts, large, with broken radios and seat leather peeling apart and doors that stuck), but cursed whichever one of the Gods had called him into work that morning.

It was his day off, after all. He had been looking forward to his trip with his girlfriend to Sunyshore, where they would dance the weekend away in the clubs. But no. They'd had to postpone at least a few hours, putting them in Sunyshore behind schedule. And she was not happy about that; By Cressel he'd never hear the end of that. She'd bitched before Henry had been forced to leave to go to the office; having the foresight to silence his phone, her tirade had not continued. Cresselia help her from Darkrai, she was a wonderful woman, but she had a ferocious temper.

As he finally pulled into the parking lot of the penal compound, Henry eyed the falling snow suspiciously. The storm was already have supposed to let up, but it looked like it was beginning to snow again. Resolving to finish quickly, Henry pulled into his parking spot and killed the engine.

It took him a further five minutes to get across the parking lot, through security, and into his office, and Henry whipped off his coat and scarf hastily before sitting down cross-legged in the chair, pushing his ragged black hair out of his face.

He glanced down at the file on his desk, his face already creasing into a frown. This was so important he'd had to delay his vacation? He flipped through the single sheet of paper contained within, his bad mood getting worse by the second.

"So." He snapped to his First Lieutenant, a slim woman who had just appeared in his doorway. "You drag me all the way down here to look at this. Release orders?"

"Well, sir, Mr. Scott posted bail early yesterday." She explained, her aquamarine hair falling in her eyes. She brushed it back with an impatient fidget, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"And your point is?" Henry snapped forcefully. "Release orders go through Danny, two floors down. This is ridiculous."

He began to stand up, grabbing his coat from the floor as his lieutenant twitched nervously. "I should demote you for this, Lieutenant," Henry hissed placing a heavy emphasis on 'Lieutenant', "but I'm in a generous mood."

"Sir, Mr. Scott was first incarcerated for involvement in the failed MarshBadge Experiment."

Henry slumped back into his chair, remembering that crucial detail of why this particular man was in jail in the first place. "Oh."

"Yes, sir, that's what I said too."

Henry's first Lieutenant bit her lip again for speaking out of turn, yet her superior didn't seem to notice as he booted up the computer sitting on top of his desk. She clicked her pumps together, making sure that she was standing perfectly as Henry decreed.

"Sit down, please." Henry remarked calmly, without really looking at the prim woman in the office. "You know I hate it when you hover."

"Yes, sir."

She obeyed immediately, setting her briefcase down on the floor between the two chairs in front of her superior's desk. She crossed her arms demurely in her lap, staring behind Henry to the billowing snowstorm.

"You know what, Valerie?" Henry broke the silence off the office as his computer began patching itself to the police server network. "I'm letting you explain to Shiri why our vacation was delayed."

His first Lieutenant brushed back her bangs again in her traditional nervous fidget. "Yes, sir." She replied resignedly, an unhappy frown creasing her porcelain face.

Henry returned to his troubled thoughts by tucking one hand under his chin, staring intently at his computer screen.

December 16, 2000.

5 Obsidian Trail

Veilstone City

10:48 AM

Gregori trudged up the nearly deserted street, dodging patches of ice and large clumps of snow as he did so. Cyrus needed him to fetch a package from a local shipping outlet, and so therefore, his newest (and for the moment, only) subordinate was elected the task.

The blue-nette sighed, wishing he at least still had his car for ease of transportation, instead of having to take Veilstone's public bus service. Although the bus had dropped him off only a few blocks away, his bruised ribs were still smarting horribly, despite the painkillers, and the short walk was practically torture. Finally arriving at the right building, Gregori pushed open the glass doors and slouched into the lobby.

It was a plush seven story business building, if the lobby was any indication, and Gregori let himself admire the design for a few moments while he caught his breath. The thick carpet muffled the sounds of his boots as he clutched his heavy fur coat about him. Striding forward, he motioned to a nearby attendant for help at a nearby counter with a lazy flick of his hand.

"Suite 97." He rasped, his throat burned from the cold.

"Yes, sir." The female attendant replied, tapping something into a computer behind the screen. "Do you have an appointment?"

"I'm retrieving a package." Gregori replied, staring behind the woman to the muted off-cream wall behind her.

"Thank you, sir." She replied, handing him a visitor's pass. "Have a pleasant day."

Gregori twitched an eyebrow, and as quickly as the woman had appeared, she melted away behind the counter. He turned, making sure his coat wouldn't fall, and moved down the expanse of the lobby toward the central bank of elevators.

Behind the elevators was a small enclosed courtyard, bounded by a café of some sorts. Tables were scattered across the room, which sloped down to a small pit underneath the main floor. Gregori resolved himself to fetch a coffee after he'd picked up the package, in reward of a job well done. He punched the gold button for the elevator, pleasantly surprised when one set of doors responded behind him with the customary ding.

Turning on his heel, he caught sight of the group of business-people exiting, probably heading home from an early day to the snowstorm. He slouched further and stared at the floor in front of him when a pair of patent-leather pumps stepped into his view. He followed the legs up to see a woman staring curiously at him, until he caught sight of her face and the two made eye contact.

"Gregori?" She asked hesitantly, her voice smooth and cool, with a hint of a foreign accent.

He sighed. "Natalyia."