Cassidy sat cross-legged on her single bed, one hand spread out in front of her as she painted each nail a vivid shade of lilac. She was trying to distract herself from the fact that she was becoming increasingly homesick. She'd been feeling it since lunchtime earlier that day, a hopeless feeling of longing to be back in her cosy bedroom back home- she missed her portable television with one of her favourite soaps on the screen. She missed all of her old photographs and posters clogging up the walls. She missed her silver sequinned cushion and dressing table with little lights around the mirror like movie stars have. It was strange, but she even missed Carla, even though she'd barely ever spent any time downstairs with her. Just knowing that she'd always been there was a comfort.

But now, she was in this bleak, grey dorm room, freezing cold because she couldn't get the radiator to turn on, uncomfortable because the mattress on her bed was so springy, bored because the small tv only had six channels and not a single one of them had anything worth watching. She was painting her nails as slowly as possible because she knew once she'd finished she'd be left with absolutely nothing to occupy herself with. If only she had some friends around this place...

She jumped, glancing over at the door as she heard a key turning in the lock. When the door opened and she realized it was just the raspy idiot from before, her expression turned into a mask of disgust. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded in disbelief as he let himself into the room, holding a travel bag.

"Coming to unpack my stuff in my new room, what's it look like?" Butch replied as he dumped his bag down on the bed adjacent to hers.

She gaped at him indignantly. "You can't just stroll in here like that! You have to knock!"

He scoffed, unzipping his bag and beginning to take out his belongings. He didn't have much- a few clothes and basic necessities. "'Fraid not, blondie. It's my room too, remember? Go ask Viper if you got a problem with it."

Realizing he was right and this was no longer just 'her' room, she huffed, a scowl on her face as she went back to painting her nails. "Just don't come anywhere near my bed," she grumbled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, blondie, is it okay if I put my clothes in the wardrobe over there?" he questioned breezily as he crossed the room to the small, wood wardrobe, a few items of clothing folded up in his arms. He didn't wait for an answer from his new partner. He needn't have bothered; the moment he opened the door of the wardrobe, overflowed items began to tumble out due to the fact that it was absolutely jam-packed with shoes, tops, skirts, dresses, jeans...

He glanced over his shoulder at Cassidy. "Seriously?"

She just raised her eyebrows innocently, shrugging before she went back to painting her nails. "A girl can never have too many clothes."

He rolled his eyes, turning back to the overflowing wardrobe with a helpless expression. "Well... sure, but this is stupid. We're here for training, not a fashion show. I mean, when are you even gonna get the chance to wear all this?"

"Parties."

"There's not gonna be any parties," he replied, tutting as his eyes scanned for a spare spot in the wardrobe. Not even an inch of space? Nope. Cassidy had well and truly filled the wardrobe, so he simply stuffed his clothes in there along with the rest and shut the doors abruptly before any more attire could escape.

Cassidy snorted. "Genius solution."

"Lucky I don't have much stuff. We'd really be stumped if that was the case," he remarked, taking some cologne, a can of deodorant and a toothbrush out of his bag. "I'm putting these in the bathroom."

Cassidy rolled her eyes as he passed her. He was so damn annoying! "I don't need a running commentary of what you're doing," she snapped, quickly silencing once he came back into the room.

"You've taken up the entire bathroom shelf with all those soap things."

"Yeah? Well, deal with it," Cassidy shot back bitterly. She glanced over at him, craning her neck to see what he was taking out of his bag now. Her left brow upraised when he brought out several packs of cigarettes in each hand. Well... now his voice made sense. "You smoke."

"Uh-huh," he replied, putting the packs away in the top draw of his bedside cabinet and then emptying his bag of the last few packs. Although, there were a lot more than a 'few'. There seemed to be enough to last months. "Do you?"

Cassidy scoffed, shaking her head disapprovingly at the countless packs littered on his bed. "God no. It's a disgusting habit, no wonder you sound like a croaky old frog. I bet you have throat cancer."

"I doubt that," he said as he began to put the rest of his packs away in the increasingly full draw. He glanced over his shoulder at her, giving her a pretty grave look. "Now, quit making fun of my personal defect, will ya?"

"Fine, whatever," Cassidy retorted, placing her jar of nail polish down and scowling over at him indignantly. "I don't care about you, or your voice, or your nasty habits, or the fact that you're in my room, or anything. You hear me?"

Butch laughed it off, raising his hands up in mock surrender. "Loud and clear, blondie!"

"And stop calling me that."

"Cassidy, then."

"Yeah."

"Nice name ya got there."

"Butch is a dumb name."

"Aw, thanks."

He flopped down on his bed with a sigh once he'd finished unpacking, crossing his arms behind his head comfortably. For some reason, this earned a scornful snort of annoyance from Cassidy. He wearily turned his head to look at her. "So, goldilocks, c'mon. Spill it. What's your problem, huh?" he questioned briskly, staring her down.

She shot him an irritated glance, unswerved by his glare. "Excuse me?"

"Your problem. With me. What is it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's a pretty irrelevant reason if you ask me. So d'ya think we could maybe start over?" he questioned tentatively, eyebrows heightening. "I think we got off to a bad start, and I don't wanna fight with someone I'm gonna be working with, y'know?"

Cassidy smirked at this, shaking her head. She knew the real reason why he was being so nicey-nice. He was a guy, it was obvious he just wanted to get into her pants. "No. I don't want to be friends, Botch."

"I never said we have to be friends, just quit being so..."

"Being so what?"

He sighed, wearily closing his eyes for a moment. This girl was frustrating. "You're acting like I've done something wrong. And I don't think I have. I'm just trying to be friendly and here you are, throwing it back in my face."

"Because I don't like you. You're fucking irritating, can't you just be quiet?" she shot back harshly.

"No. I don't want to be quiet, blondie."

She gritted her teeth. What was it about this guy that got on her nerves so much? Usually, it was near impossible to infuriate her. She annoyed everyone else with her arrogance. People didn't do that to her. "You'll be quiet, you loser. Because I'm just going to ignore you from now on," she hissed.

He suddenly sat up, glaring over at her. "Seriously, what is with you? Tell me what I've done to offend you so much!"

"Who said you offended me? I just plain don't like you, I don't need a reason, and I don't need to explain myself to you, end of story." She flashed a smile at him as she hopped up off her bed, grabbing her folded up nightdress from her pillow and heading into the bathroom without giving him another glance.

Butch huffed furiously when the bathroom door closed. What was with this brat? He tried there and then to recall saying anything that might have offended her, but as far as he knew, he'd only defended himself when she'd been rude. He scowled up at the ceiling of the room. It was just his luck to get landed with such a stuck-up bitch for a partner. He'd joined Team Rocket to get away from an unfortunate past, and for once in his life maybe get along with people and feel like he belonged somewhere. But if he was working with someone like Cassidy, that wasn't going to be as easy to achieve as he thought. He knew her type.

After having a wash, combing out her long golden hair, and changing into that very short nightdress, Cassidy came back into the bedroom, placing her neatly folded uniform at the end of her bed. Just before she climbed under the covers she caught site of Butch out of the corner of her eye, his own eyes seemed very fixated on a particular something.

"Are you looking at my boobs?" the blonde shrieked furiously, causing him to jump.

Butch's cheeks suddenly flushed as red as tomatos at the realization that he had indeed, been staring at her chest. Only half intentionally. "...Kinda hard to miss 'em," he grunted, shifting his eye contact back to the ceiling.

Cassidy was the one to blush violently now, quickly getting into bed and under the covers so that only her head was exposed. "Creep," she spat.

"Bitch."

She scowled, wrapping the cover around herself and sliding one hand under her pillow as she always did. "Don't talk to me again, I want to get some shut-eye."

"G'night, then," he said, just to see if she was possibly polite enough to at least reply with a simple 'goodnight'. There was a long silence as he waited for a response. And it continued. He heaved a weary sigh, perhaps a bit of a disappointed one, before he got up, making sure to be fairly quiet as he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed himself.