The warmth of the early morning sun shining down through the roof of the relaxation atrium did nothing for Viv's mood, the grunt's expression locked in a frown while she stared out across the tree-dotted field of short-cut grass with the single artificial stream running through it. Leaning up with her back against a tree with her arms crossed over the red 'R' proudly displayed on her chest uniform, she muttered to herself with the weavile mirroring her pose beside her nodding at every word.
"It's disgusting. Sure it was bad before, but John just had to go and make things worse…"
It was no lie. The day that John went and got himself 'promoted' by the boss would live in infamy in her mind. Sure the brand new pokegear sitting on her wrist was pretty neat, but it had come with a heavy price.
"This isn't what Team Rocket is about," Viv continued, this time louder and with a glance down towards Weave. "If this gets out to the public, our image is finished."
"Vile," her pokemon agreed with her nose scrunching in distaste, and it said something that Viv wasn't able to tell if it was just a coincidence or if Weave's speech just so happened to perfectly line up for once.
Looking back out, in the distance just past a few bushes and a bench where two equally confused grunts sat, Viv's eyes narrowed and focused in on the so-called man that was the source of her ire.
"Someone has to stop him. No one should be that happy, it's unnatural."
Max, allegedly a fellow criminal working for the most feared criminal group in Kanto (a statement also not immune to doubt), was impervious to her criticisms however. Instead the grinning blonde grunt was preoccupied with running through the grass with his two pokemon hot on his heels, the spoiled rattata and rookie buizel sharing their master's laughter while they jumped and chased after the bouncing feather toy that Max held in his hand. Each ring of the accursed bell attached to the colourful pokemon toy, each peal of laughter or squeaking squeal of enjoyment, felt like it was chipping away at the cold coating of freezing ice that encased her blackened heart.
Or at least that's how Viv decided to frame it to herself, and she had to turn her head away and make a retching motion over her shoulder when Buizel changed tactics and got Max in the face with a weak Water Gun, her co-worker falling over onto the grass still laughing with his two pokemon leaping onto him with tackled hugs. Weave echoed her sentiments with a mocking snort and shake of the head, while the few grunts relaxing in the morning sun around the recreation area all looked utterly perplexed at the scene of innocent joy that was playing out in front of them. The next move from Max only made things worse, the deviant having the nerve to pull out a bag of pokemon treats from a pocket in his uniform pants much to the enthusiastic and very loud reactions of the two creatures fawning over him.
"I can't believe him…"
"Something up?"
Vivian jolted at the unexpected question from her right, Weave likewise snapping her head around as John moved up next to her.
"Shit John, how didn't I hear you of all people?"
The large grunt shrugged. "Getting better at being sneaky, I suppose." He nodded a greeting to Weave, and Viv noticed the large bruise forming on the left side of his face.
"Boss beat the crap out of you again?"
A scoff in response, but it seemed to lack the usual good humour. "Not so far, no. Just between us, I'd rather not have my shit being pushed in like last week become a regular occurrence if I can help it. I've got enough on my plate without adding 'boss's punching bag' to my resume. This here for example:" he said, tapping the bruise with a gloved finger. "You won't believe me, but I slipped in a bloody puddle loading stuff into the van and conked my face on the tow bar. That sums up my current luck, really."
Viv didn't quite know what to say at first. Given the nature of John's new role in the team she couldn't be exactly sure if the description of the puddle was meant to be a grim adjective or just a statement of targeted frustration, but she hoped it was the latter.
"Oh… that sucks."
"Yeah, just a bit." He gave a quick glance around them, John lowering his voice at his next words. "Even worse, the latest job started off better than the last but turned to shit pretty quick. Once again, our so-called scouts stuffed up and the dude decided to play hard to get. At least this time they weren't in full uniform, thank Christ, but I still had to spend a bit of time cruising around Fuchsia peeking into every alley and dive bar."
Despite the morbid topic, Viv raised an eye and commented with a small smile. "Oh, and I'm sure you hated that part. Bought a drink or two to 'fit in', didn't you?" Weave snickered alongside her, and thankfully John at least seemed to brighten for a brief, and fleeting, moment.
"Of course I did," he said, hand going over his heart. "I'm a professional after all." Then as soon as it arrived, his smile started to wither. "Well, and I happened to eventually find the guy in one after a couple nights sleeping in the van. Followed him while he stumbled back to his hideout near the outskirts of town and got the job done, didn't even see it coming and I doubt he even felt it he was that shitfaced." His words hung in the air for a moment, then John sighed. "It was going to be the best outcome possible I suppose, but as usual life wasn't about to just let me have even that."
Viv raised an eye and waited for him to continue, John giving another quick glance around the area before lifting up his own uniform shirt.
The long line of fresh red flesh was easy to spot in contrast to the large man's light skin, crossing diagonally from the left side of his navel up to his hairy chest and stopping just shy of a pink nipple. The beginnings of a gnarly scar without a doubt, although at least whatever had made it apparently hadn't gone too deep. Or maybe it had and had merely been unable to reach anything vital thanks to the sheer mass of fat and flesh that John had armoured himself with.
"Ouch," she muttered with a wince all the same. At her side Weave scoffed and rolled her eyes, Viv silently conceding that given her claws and love of hunting the weavile had indeed seen and inflicted worse, but the pokemon still stepped up to John and traced a single claw just above the developing scar before she looked up with a curious look. John to his credit didn't flinch at the action, his hand still holding his shirt up as he scoffed out a reply.
"Well Old Mate was well and truly plastered before I got him, but I can't say the same about his friend who was lurking around the corner. Bastard tried to open me up like a letter and to be fair he probably had a decent chance at doing it, if only he hadn't decided to slash instead of stab. Right Weave?"
"Ile," Weave replied with a sagely nod, withdrawing her claw and turning to the side to make of show of thrusting her hands at an imaginary opponent. John lowered his shirt and both he and Viv had a few moments of entertainment watching the pokemon mimic vicious blows and enthusiastic strikes before Weave 'finished' off the invisible unfortunate with a duel-handed strike at the ground, the triumphant cry and following pose of victory from Weave with her chest puffed out and chin raised drawing out the first genuine chuckle from John that Viv had heard in weeks.
"Jeez, good thing you're on my side Weave."
After laughing lightly along with John at her pokemon's showboating, Viv let Weave soak in the praise and instead focused back on the large grunt himself. He noticed her looking at him after a few seconds, and she asked him her question as soon as he met her gaze. "So, even though you apparently got stabbed, you feeling okay?" She followed up quickly after seeing his mood start to sour again, thinking of a way to try and salvage it. "You know, aside from that and you slipping over like an oaf. I know you're not exactly the prettiest face of the Team, but we do have some standards to upkeep." Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him an exaggerated look down her nose. "If you keep coming back looking like you just went ten rounds with the Boss people will start to talk you know."
Thankfully it seemed to work, John huffing but his smile returning stronger than before.
"Yeah, I'm doing okay, and I'm truly touched that you care so much Viv. It's good to know that I've got you looking out for me and making sure I don't bring dishonour to the Team. Perish the thought."
Shaking her head at John while he put a gloved hand over his heart and mimed wiping away a tear, Viv's reply was an easy one. "Oh you're certainly 'touched', no doubts about that."
"Harsh, but fair," he conceded with a nod. Then, he shrugged. "Seriously though, I think I'm dealing with it all pretty well considering. Trick is to just compartmentalise it all and treat it like it is: work. Try not to dwell on it too much after it's all done and dusted, you know?"
Honestly, she didn't 'know'. Not exactly. Granted she wasn't squeaky clean herself, what with the whole 'stealing pokemon and things' bit that was part of her job. Viv wasn't like Max either in her way of approaching work, that being with a decent amount of enthusiasm instead of having to almost be dragged out to missions. Not to mention how her trips with Weave up to the mountains of Kanto were far from most peoples' idea of a relaxing hike. However, even to her John's recent change of role in the Team wasn't ideal and even though he said that he was fine and seemed fairly normal (for John) if a little glum, the next question was one that had to be asked.
"Is that… healthy?"
True to form, the large grunt shrugged at her again. "I dunno." He must have noticed her raised brows, John following up while he scratched under his chin with one hand. "I mean, the Doc seems to think that I'm handling it well. At least that's what he tells me; I get the feeling that he's still surprised that I haven't had a major breakdown or something. Who knows? Maybe I'm just one of those people who are more mentally resistant to stress and each job is like lifting weights, but for the muscle holding back the existential dread instead of my biceps. Or something." He waggled his eyes at her. "Wow, talk about profound."
Vivian couldn't help but snort with mild amusement even as she rolled her eyes.
"Well, at least you're getting something out of it I guess."
"Yeah…" With a bite of his lip, John lowered his voice with his next words and leaned in. "Well, that and I found that the uh… let's just say increased paycheck, helps me sleep a little better. It sounds shitty to say I know, but the Boss wasn't lying about that part. Still don't know if I should be feeling guilt about it to be honest and…" after appearing to have had second thoughts on sharing that little bit of info, the large grunt glanced back to where Max and his pokemon were out in the distance. The third member of their little group was barely visible lying on his back in the grass, most of his torso still covered by two lumps of orange and purple fur. "Let's keep what I just said between me and you for now, yeah?" Before Viv could answer, Weave loudly cleared her throat down beside the two of them. "Ah yeah, you as well then Weave. No spilling the beans to Ratterick or Buizel."
Judging by the way Weave nodded enthusiastically with a smug grin at being privy to something the rattata was not, both Vivian and John figured that it wasn't going to be a problem. Her pokemon essentially sworn to secrecy, it was Viv's turn.
"Sure, suits me," she said with a shrug of her own. Then, a half-tease. "Given that you two are taking a bit of a break, is there anything I can actually tell Max if he asks about you?" She grinned at how her wording of the two grunts giving each other some space elicited a scoff from John. "Repeating 'John's fine apparently' gets a little stale."
After a moment of thought, John raised a single finger. "Actually, there is something new." Both Viv and Weave watched him drop to one knee, the large man pulling up his right pant leg and withdrawing something from his boot. "Check it out, I've got a boot knife now. Got it for free too."
"Ah…" Viv sighed and shook her head at the black-handled weapon that John was now holding out tip-first towards Weave, the weavile enraptured with the knife tapping one claw against the thick and squat blade. "That's… nice, but do you have anything else? Max isn't exactly the sort of guy who's into knives, just a hunch."
John nodded at that, gave Weave another couple of seconds to inspect the edged weapon, and then tucked it back into its hidden sheath before standing up. "Right, I can see where you're getting that from, especially since this one was a knife that was into me after all." Still smiling despite the dark nature of the observation, John rubbed his chin in thought for another second. "How about: "Oh John? Doing great mate. Boss is helping him work out, he's still eating healthy," one hand slapped the generous gut that had potentially shielded his organs from harm. "You know, the usual."
"Pfft, maybe."
The two of them, three counting Weave, turned their focus back on the grunt who was the subject of the conversation. Max was up and had his back turned to them out by the manmade stream of water running through the centre of the recreational area, doing what appeared to be attempts at jumping jacks with his two pokemon at either side trying (and failing on Ratterick's part) to emulate the bipedal exercise. It wasn't exactly helping to keep attention off him with the other Rockets dotted around the area still watching the trio and muttering amongst each other, but if Max was paying any notice to them he didn't show it. The human, his rattata, and his buizel were off in their own little world of happiness, fun, and friendship.
'Blegh.'
Viv managed to keep her distaste hidden, John by her side just watching the three 'train' with his chest shaking with silent chuckles, and instead tried to think of a way to stop it all before she was overwhelmed by the sweetness of naïve innocence.
"I need a break from watching this," she muttered to the man next to her, before aiming a shrug at him. "You hungry like always? We could wrangle the Twinkle Trio over there and grab some breakfast. Cafeteria food isn't the greatest normally, but breakfast is probably the most tolerable of the lot. Plus the coffee ain't half bad." She winked. "Well, that and it's free."
Her hope was quickly shot down by John's apologetic wince.
"Oof, afraid I can't today Viv, Boss wanted to see me in his office this morning. I stopped here on the way and I've already dawdled enough." In a rare move, he reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "Some other time, maybe."
Viv stared him down, only partially because of the contact.
"You're not avoiding him, right?" she asked with a gesture of her head towards Max. "Look, he can be a bit of softie some… most of the time, but he's not a complete baby. He'll come around, but you two need to actually start acting like friends again already." She scoffed. "It's bringing the mood down."
To be fair to him, John at least looked to give her words some thought before replying. "I… maybe a little, all right? I admit it, I'm waiting for him to warm up a bit more. Get a better grip on things, come to terms with it all so we can smooth things over for good." He pointed a hand out towards the laughing human and two pokemon. "Come on Viv, can you really ask me to break up all of that infectious joy by barging in and forcing him to get over it?"
Viv didn't even need to think.
"Yes, yes I can."
"Vile-eave!"
Faced with simultaneous answers, John snorted out an amused scoff.
"Well, although I'd like to help you two ladies out, I wasn't lying about the Boss." He tapped his belt with one hand, a small black pager clipped above the slight bulge in his right pants pocket. "He really does want me in his office again, and hopefully this time it's not to give me more work. I don't know what's worse, doing the actual job or the reports he wants written up about it all afterwards; they've been giving me Vietnam-tier flashbacks to uni." An apologetic smile. "A raincheck for next time Viv, maybe later in the week ay?"
Arms still crossed over her chest, Viv gave an exaggerated sigh and roll of her eyes.
"Fine, John. Go, have fun with your new friend, me and Weave will just suffer here by ourselves."
"Poor diddums," he mocked back, having paused halfway in turning to depart. "I'm sure you'll be fine."
"Yeah, yeah." Waving him off dismissively, Viv couldn't hold back the smile that matched John's own at the exchange. It was almost like things were back to normal. Then, after a moments thought with John waving goodbye and walking away, she called out after him and stopped him midway. "Hey, John."
"Hmm?"
Viv nodded. "Try and have a good day, yeah? And consider that a direct order from Cool Leader Viv." She pointed a stern finger at him and was rewarded with a grin, and after Weave added in her own pointed claw in emulation John had no choice but to stand and give a hasty salute.
"Aye aye," he smirked and winked. "I'll inform the Boss of your command at once, Glorious Leader. By your will, it will be done. See ya later."
With that he resumed his march across the grass for the exit but with more of a spring in his step than before. Leaning back against her tree again, Viv shared her own smile with Weave now that the largest charge of theirs was sorted out.
"He better," said Viv with the weavile nodding her own agreement. "Boss needs to give him a break, it's been sucking all the fun out of being a Rocket without Max and John around to bully. Am I right or am I right, Weave?"
Weave just cackled and nodded vigorously, Vivian smiling as no more words were needed to be said.
"Smith, we have a problem: Doctor Kenji."
John had barely even sat down in the metal folding chair facing the Boss's desk before Giovanni torpedoed all hope of a quiet day in one fell strike. No question about how his previous mission went, no greeting or hello, not even a quick comment about his bruised face.
"The portal guy, right?" he hesitantly asked, his orange-suited employer's face stony while he crossed his hands on the desk and nodded.
"Correct. I take it you remember him well, then?"
The chair creaked with strain, John shifting and leaning back in it. "Well enough. I don't think it's a night I'm going to forget anytime soon."
"Fully understandable, but unfortunately you're not the only one who hasn't."
Despite the feeling of impending doom settling in his stomach, John at least tried to crack one out.
"Persian still not over it, huh?"
There was no reply at first from Giovanni, the man remaining still with his stern expression unwavering. Someone else wasn't too happy with the comment however, a light-tan curled tail flicking up from behind the desk with a low growl rumbling out from somewhere beside the boss. Said boss gave his pokemon a moment to finish voicing his displeasure before cutting the big cat off with a tap of his foot on the polished floor.
"Persian isn't the problem, our shared friend the incompetent scientist is. It appears that the good Doctor is no longer satisfied with his job and is preparing to leave my employ for greener pastures."
The conversation paused and both men turned to look as one of the two doors in the side wall opened after a short burst of knocks, Joben stepping out into the office in his usual black suit with a shiny silver tray in his hands. The personal assistant made a beeline for the desk as fast as he seemingly could while still keeping his stride prim and proper, and John struggled to hold back a frown with Joben likely doing the same.
"Excuse me for the interruption sir, but your breakfast as requested." Placing the tray down before criminal leader, Joben moved to expertly pour steaming coffee into one of two fine porcelain cups from a gold-trimmed french (kalos?) press. While he did so the Boss was already reaching for a croissant, Giovanni nodding at his assistant before taking the first bite of his meal. With one cup of coffee served Joben next moved on to a bowl containing small fish fillets in a cream sauce of some kind. It was placed somewhere down behind the desk out of sight, but it was evident who it was intended for judging from the satisfied purring that started up as Joben stood back up. Then, finally, attention was turned to John.
"Something for Smith, as requested," the assistant said as if he needed to stress that it wasn't a gesture done out of the kindness of his heart. A singular muffin was offered out on a small plate, dotted with some unidentifiable blue fruit. Taking the plate from the hated adversary, John made sure to look Joben right in his judgemental green eyes with a smile.
"Cheers cobber."
"Of course." With only the slightest of nose wrinkles, face hidden from Giovanni, Joben gave a light smile of his own back. "Please, do enjoy it. It's fresh out of the oven." Then without giving John a moment to reply the slender man turned and bowed his head towards the boss. "Sir, I'll leave you to your business and retrieve the tray when you're done, as usual."
Then as quickly as he had arrived the man was gone again, Giovanni finishing his first croissant just as the door shut behind his assistant.
"Problem, Smith?"
"Ah, nah," John started, rotating the plate around in the air and peering at the muffin he was now highly suspicious of. "I've just… had a large breakfast already, that's all. Doc's still practically shoving protein and nutrients down my gob." Placing the plate down on his edge of the desk, John gestured at it with a parting wave. "Might save it for later, see how my stomach is after we've had our talk."
While he was pretty sure Joben was at least prissy enough to not season any offered food with the subtle addition of any body fluids, the same could not be said for the forbidden flavour that only strong rat poison could provide.
Giovanni apparently didn't buy the flimsy excuse going off the way he raised one eye, followed by a direct attack in the form of a question.
"Is something going on between you two?"
'Yeah, Joben's a cunt and a stroppy sook.'
"No idea, I don't think so," John lied instead. "Probably a little unsure of me given the whole 'bang-bang' thing."
Giovanni lifted up a second pastry, took a bite and chewed, then swallowed. All the while his searching eyes didn't deviate from John.
"Pity, you two were such good friends before the incident as well," the boss deadpanned. Then he glanced at the cups sitting next to the half-full press. "It also looks like he expects you to pour your own coffee."
"He… probably just forgot to."
"Hmm… perhaps." Placing his half-eaten morsel back down, Giovanni picked up the coffee press and empty cup. "I hope that's case. You both should know that I don't care for personal squabbles between my subordinates. This is Team Rocket after all, I expect my employees to dedicate themselves to good work habits." Instead of just passing the items over, the boss instead poured John a cup himself and transferred it over to the nodding grunt.
"Thanks Boss."
"You're welcome Smith. Now, speaking of dedication to the job, back to Doctor Kenji." The next bite of the croissant was particularly hard. "After the incident that resulted in you finding yourself under my employ, I took the liberty of upgrading my ability to keep tabs on certain underground laboratories in my possession. Especially the ones that had trouble meeting their self-reporting requirements."
Taking a sip of hot coffee, and admittedly Joben could at least make a good cup even if he lacked skills in making good conversation, John made a guess.
"You bugged him."
Giovanni's mouth twitched down into a slight frown. "Correct again. And unfortunately I've once more been proven right. He's reached out to his old employers, trying to buy back a spot with them in exchange for research results. My research results." Not even a bit of fresh coffee could cheer the boss up, and Giovanni crossed his hands on his desk after putting his cup down. "Granted it's been a few months since that night now with nothing of real substance to show for it but expensive invoices and lost money, but I will not stand for it."
Nodding along with his boss's explanation, John led his reply with a hum of thought.
"Why not Boss? I mean, I admit I might be biased a bit because he did sort of build the thing that I slippy-slid out of, but why not just let him leave if he wants to leave?" Another quick sip of coffee. "He's not happy with the work, you're not happy with his work, part ways now and find some other science man to do science things."
Giovanni scoffed into his own cup. "Is that what you call him conjuring you from wherever you came from and won't tell me about?"
"Nah, he just provided the means of entry. It's a tossup at the moment if God sent me here as punishment for me or as punishment for you. Fifty-fifty, I say."
"I lean heavily towards the latter," the Boss snorted, his brief twitch of a smile at the exchange disappearing quickly back to 'serious business' mode. "But the situation is more complicated than summoning extra-dimensional vagrants to my secret labs. The main problem is that Kenji now knows too much for me to just let him leave my employment, especially on such terms that include him giving such knowledge to an outside party. There was a time that such issues could be solved with the application of a particularly strong psychic memory alteration or two, but-"
Giovanni was interrupted by John almost choking on his coffee.
"Excuse me, did you just say, 'psychic memory alteration'!?"
The boss nodded with a frown. "I did. It's not common fortunately, but some of the more powerful psychic pokemon can be specially trained in human memory manipulation and employed in controlled conditions. The practice is highly illegal in Pokemon League aligned regions however, with even the usage of psychic mind-reading for law-enforcement legislated out to near non-existence."
John, still coughing to clear his throat with a fist thumping his chest, winced at both the slight burning in his trachea and the confirmation of psychic mind-fuckery.
"Since when did we care about something being illegal?"
"We don't." Giovanni's frown deepened, and his gaze hardened. "However, personal experience in the past changed my mind on the matter, pardon the pun. As a result I decided that I would never again play a part in allowing a pokemon to meddle with a human mind, even if it does suit my business needs."
Finishing his coffee, John placed his cup down on the tray. "That bad huh?"
"Extremely." His own beverage emptied; Giovanni continued. "Thankfully such manipulation didn't manage to extend to the reliability of paper backups and hard copies, aiding in the recovery and strengthening process." With an inwards sigh the boss waved his hand. "Such matters are in the past however, and we need to look towards the future. Specifically, the curtailing of Doctor Kenji's."
John tried to make light of the grim situation, but he still squirmed in his chair while doing so. "So you're going with murder then? As the more ethical option?"
"The more practical option," clarified Giovanni, leaning forwards in his chair. "Kenji holds important information in that alleged brain of his, information that I do not want leaving the confines of Team Rocket. Normally I'd just pay someone off or have them intimidated into compliance, but that man is immune to such sense. Interestingly though, he did provide me with one sure means to guarantee his silence during his time vacuuming up my finances and patience."
A nod to John, the large grunt sucking in some air through his teeth.
"Boss, I dunno about this one. I… I do kind of owe the guy, you know?"
Rings rapped against the wood of the desk, Giovanni looking down his nose at him.
"You also owe me, Smith. A whole lot more than Kenji, I add." Then, to pile on more to convince him, Giovanni raised his brows and followed up. "It's also worth mentioning that besides myself and Yari, Doctor Kenji is the only one that knows the full circumstances of your arrival."
John raised a quick hand before pointing to the rear of the desk. "And Persian."
Said persian growl-yowled out something that was probably along the lines of "Unfortunately".
The boss didn't miss a beat. "Putting the limited Team Rocket information he was privy to and possible attempts to convince the authorities of my involvement to the side, consider what could happen if he decides to share details of just what," he pressed his hands together and pointed them at John, "his latest experiment produced. I'm sure many of his acquaintances would go to great lengths to procure you for study." A grim look crossed the boss's face. "Compliance or no compliance, I'm sure of it. Your face would be paraded around in every science journal in the world, heralded as the freak from beyond."
"Okay easy, easy," John said with raised hands, a frown on his face as he realised that the boss had a point. About the 'he knows too much' thing, not the talk of being labelled a freak. How could they? "There isn't any chance of me talking you out of this, is there? You're actually going to have me kill the guy who pretty much gave me a second chance at life?"
Giovanni actually looked a little surprised at that revelation, John realising that he may have given a tad too much away.
"While I can't… comment on that exactly, I can tell you what I do know."
John gritted his teeth. "What's that?"
Giovanni leaned back in his chair, fingers interlocking together on his chest.
"I've ordered Ivan to ready a helicopter for take-off at seven this evening, with you on it."
Maintaining eye contact, the boss's look didn't leave room for much argument. His next words removed all ambiguity entirely.
"You'll want to remember to pack your shovel."
John stared out the window at the small cottage sitting out in the fenced-off field all by its lonesome, the rotors of the helicopter he was riding in gradually powering down now that they had landed. The flight through the dark evening sky had passed by quickly, though it could have just been him getting lost in thought given where he now was. The lab where it all began, in which his second life started and Kenji's first would likely end.
"You're go to leave the chopper, Big Man." Turning away from the window, John saw the opaque visor of the pilot's black flight helmet looking back at him. With his stubbled face split with a grin, Ivan gave him a thumbs up. "Take your time doing your audit or whatever the bossman wants, ain't no need to rush on my part. I've got my thermos at the ready and a catalogue of fine ladies to keep me company, don't worry about me."
Snorting with amusement at the pilot's chuckling laugh, John unclipped his seatbelt and grabbed the side-door's handle.
"Roger that, I'll get right to then. Wouldn't want to deprive the sheilas of you for much longer."
Ivan cackled with laughter up front in the cockpit as the large grunt slid the door open and stepped down, the pilot unable to see the way John's smile disappeared as soon as his boots hit the flat pavement of the modest helipad. After patting himself down and confirming that everything he needed was still in his pockets, he started off down the dirt path that led straight to the dimly lit cottage. Boots crunching on the occasional stony pebble, he adjusted the leather jacket covering his uniform shirt while the cool night's breeze ruffled his hair.
It was a short walk and he barely even had time to further dwell on his task before he reached the front of the cottage's door, which John promptly ignored in favour of swinging around the side of the house and instead coming to a stop before a second, more sturdy-looking side entrance. Remembering his instructions, he pulled out the new dark leather wallet that held his fake ID and swiped it under the nearby windowsill. The effect was immediate, with the rustic wooden door looking very out of place as it mechanically slid away into one side of the wall to permit access to a familiar small elevator. Wallet returning to his left pocket, John gave the gun in his right a quick tap before he stepped into the lift and selected the sole option available as a destination.
The whir of the lift's mechanisms and the following sounds of his footsteps echoing around the artificially lit metal corridor were his only companions aside from the unpleasant feeling gnawing away at his stomach, a quick turn around a single corner leading him back to the thick metal blast door that was the only remaining barrier between his reunion with Doctor Kenji. The last physical one more specifically, John punching in the numerical code Giovanni had given him into the wall-mounted keypad with his finger hovering over the green 'submit' button.
'Come on John, you can do this.'
Right hand brushing against the lump in his pant pocket, he took a moment to breath in and then slowly exhale out. Then he pressed his finger forwards, the door acknowledging his code with a swift beep followed by a hiss of escaping air as thick bolts clunked back and the metal split in two vertically down the middle.
"Doc?" he called out into the room beyond before stepping through once the door had opened fully. "You still alive in here?"
Somehow the lab was even messier than his first time in it, chunks of metal and piles of coiled electrical wiring taking up areas of the floor with even more esoteric materials sitting on steel tables amongst veritable seas of loose papers. Empty noodle cups and other discarded instant food packaging fought for space with blank screened computers on stained counters, and the poor solitary standing bin could barely been seen through the rubbish that was piled up around it. To cap it all off was the smell, an unpleasant mix of unwashed socks and the acrid scent of burnt electronics.
Then something moved in the back left corner by the sad corpse of the former portal generator, papers rustling and muffled cursing heralding Doctor Kenji stepping out from behind the upright ring of gold-studded metal.
"Huh? Wha… Oh, it's you!"
The much shorter man dodged cables and a few chunks of discarded plastics on the floor, Kenji giving his small set of eyeglasses a quick wipe with his oil-stained lab coat. Putting them back in place amongst messy locks of greasy black hair, he stopped a few metres short of John with his hands on his hips.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to come visit me down here, so you'll have to excuse the mess. I've been busy, very busy."
John attempted to smile, but it probably came out more like a wince. "I uh… can sort of tell."
Shakily rubbing his hands together Kenji chuckled. "Ah ha, yes. The research, it takes up a lot of time and I tend to get lost in it." Glancing back towards the ruined portal machine currently sitting silently in multiple separate pieces, the scientist pulled his head into his shoulders with a wince of his own. "Speaking of, I hope that you aren't here to seek answers from me about your… ahem, 'unusual' arrival. As you can clearly see, I may have gotten caught up in the theory side of unsanctioned experimentation rather than the practical." Moving to one of the crowded tables, Kenji brightened and raised a finger while he picked up a few stray pages. "But fret not, I haven't been idle I assure you! You being here, while disastrous for some of my equipment, has provided me with observable proof that I'm on the right track! With the proper equipment and laboratory access, along with a few assistants, I'm sure I can have a properly working prototype within the year!"
While Kenji babbled away and fussed over disorganised notes, John turned to the side and approached closer to the far-right wall where a pile of overstuffed bags and boxes lay next to a blanket-strewn mattress. Eying the luggage, he took note of the fact that for a man apparently able to engineer a machine to breach dimensions the Doctor was obviously shit at packing suitcases.
"You planning a trip, Doctor?"
His right hand snaked into his pocket and brushed against the grip of his handgun, fully expecting the man to clue in and potentially act now that the game was up.
"Why yes actually, I've grown to find my current location rather stifling and decided to get in contact with some old acquaintances." Stuffing a plastic document binder with assorted sheets of scribbled-on paper and with his back to John, Kenji completely missed the look of puzzled surprise from the large grunt. "While I appreciate the tenure provided by Mr Terreno, he doesn't seem to understand that you can't just put a price on genius. It's all pokemon-this and pokemon-that, no care for the work of a lifetime, bah!"
Taking a moment to wet his lips, John tried to figure out how to respond to that.
"Doc… I take it you at least tried to speak to the Boss about this first, right?"
Kenji didn't even skip a beat, a loud harrumph escaping him before his more verbal reply. "No, not yet anyway. It isn't like he is going to miss me after all, and I am planning on sending him a letter of resignation once I leave Kanto. I'll get around to it once I'm done with the more important parts." Another impatient sigh. "Like convincing my former colleagues to return to their status as my current colleagues within the week, for one, not that it would be on equal footing. Oh no, I have already surpassed what they are capable of!" Cackling to himself, Kenji was so preoccupied gloating to himself with papers in hand that he didn't seem to notice or care about how John was gently inching his way towards the open exit door. "Oh ho, how they'll beg me on their hands and knees to accept my spot back! Especially when I show them the proof of my success! Yes, at the moment you look far more normal compared to your first emergence, but when I show them the photos I took that night they'll have no choice but acknowledge my skill!"
'He can really bang on, can't he?' Almost at the keypad for the door and Kenji still with his back to him, John had to wait for a break in the maniacal laughter to get another word in. 'The other scientists back at the base are only half this insane I reckon.' Then he remembered the Indian-looking chick, Mihika or something, and her stories about illegal genesplicing. 'Maybe.'
Thankfully Kenji chose that moment to remember that he had to breath, and just before he resumed his self-absorbed gloating John spoke up again.
"Yeah that's nice and all Doc, but I think you can't just gloss over the whole 'not tell the Boss' thing." He reached for the button to close the door on the keypad, Kenji waving the document folder in his hand dismissively while he scoured the table for something else.
"I can, and I am." A huff. "Sure, I could build him another device out of scavenged scrap and the dregs we call these sorry excuses for high technology, and maybe it would work as he intends it to, but that's just not good enough!" Kenji's shoulders shook with a chortle. "Besides, he can find out about it after I'm out of the region. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Now where is that diagram…?"
John grimaced and hit the button, the door behind him starting to close and seal the lab off from the only exit leading to the outside. "And if he already knows?" His right hand ducked into his pocket and returned with his gun clasped in his fingers.
"That's very unlikely, I can be very… ah, there you are… discreet." Kenji scoffed while he picked up his wayward paper. "He'd probably be happy to see me go anyway, it's not like he appreciates me as much as he should."
The safety of the gun was flicked off. "Unfortunately you're right Doc, but the Boss said that if you're going to go then… he wants you gone permanently."
He wasn't sure if it was his words, the subtle click of the safety, or the louder clang of the door's bolts slamming shut and sealing Kenji in with him, but the Doctor paused where he stood.
"That's rather… ominous." Beginning to turn around to face John, Kenji's brows were furrowed with concern. "Why exactly are you here aga… oh." The black handgun pointing at him probably answered his question fairly well, Kenji's brown eyes going wide and his voice going quiet as he raised a questioning finger. "Ah, may I ask why you appear to have a gun aimed at me?"
John sighed.
"Well Doc, turns out that the Boss found out about your plans to leave the Team, and he's not happy about it. He doesn't want you to just leave and possibly spill the beans to anyone who'll listen to you." He nodded his head towards the gun while not taking his eyes off the scientist standing a few metres away from him. "So he sent me. That's why I'm here."
A moment of silence passed between the two men, then Kenji blinked.
"I'm sorry, are you implying that you are here to… shoot me?" Although his voice was shaky, the doctor seemed more confused at the situation than outright fearful. "Me?" He clutched his diagram to chest as he said it.
"Uh, yeah. Yeah I am." Frowning, John used his left hand to gesture at his gun. "I'm not just pointing this at you for a laugh."
"I… I suppose. It just seems like such an… extreme reaction."
"Well, apparently 'extreme' is how the Boss reacts to people trying to sneak off with sensitive information." He gave a pointed glance to the messy laboratory they were both standing in. "He thinks that you've taken him for a ride, wasted his money, and are now leaving to work for other people while taking everything that you've done with you. Work that he still considers his because he paid for it."
Kenji scoffed with his knees shaky but his voice carrying a touch of indignation. "That's precisely why I have to leave. He has no trust in me, he just looks down on everything I've achieved without understanding the importance! Why should I continue to toil in subpar conditions for a man who is only interested in whether or not I can supply him with new pokemon?" He huffed. "Do you have any idea how demeaning it is to be treated like a failure constantly?"
"A little," admitted John, although he didn't go into the full details of his own 'you're a shitty grunt' experience. Instead he stared the scientist down, still pointing his loaded handgun at the man and paying attention to every movement Kenji made with his hands. "But as much as we can whinge about it, at the end of the day he's the one paying our wages. You could have at least asked him to let you go, put in your two weeks or whatever, instead of just planning to bail on him with no notice." He sighed. "It's a dog move to do that in a normal job, Doc. Pulling that shit when your boss is some kind of criminal supervillain, evil branding and all, is asking for a bit more of a retaliation than just refusing to give you a good reference."
"You might have a point," Doctor Kenji said with a sigh of his own. He shifted uneasily on his feet with his eyes locked on the small barrel aimed at him. "But this scenario isn't something I calculated for. If what you're saying is true, and you are really here to shoot me just because Mr Terreno said so…"
"It might not have to come to that," John tried to quickly suggest, raising his free hand up to stop Kenji from speaking further. It had the intended effect, the doctor closing his mouth and standing still. "Look, Doc, the boss told me that this is what he wants to happen because you're talking to your old organisation, and you want to leave. You know a bit too much to just be allowed to go, especially since you yourself admitted that you're planning to blab everything." He flicked his left hand into a thumb-point back at himself. "That includes shit about me, yeah? Gotta admit, I'm not really a fan of the idea of you telling all your friends about me. I've got enough problems going on already."
John continued on, Kenji listening intently and even giving a small nod of acknowledgement. "The key thing is that we can't have you leave with what you know, right? At least not at the moment." He grimaced with the next part. "Now we both might not like it, but the boss made it pretty clear what he wants to happen to stop you." At his point to the gun, Kenji shivered where he stood but didn't' interrupt. "Yeah, that. So, to try and avoid me having to do it tonight, what about we do this another way: You get on the horn to the boss, right now, and tell him that you fucked up and you're incredibly sorry."
"I-" Kenji started to protest with a raised finger, but John swiftly cut him off.
"No, listen to me mate. You beg, you plead, you cry on your knees like a bitch, whatever it takes. Admit you made a mistake and promise to stay down here to churn something out in a few months or so." John jabbed his finger at Kenji to hammer home his point. "A metaphorical fellating, throw in a little fondling of his ego while you're at it, and he might be convinced to keep you on and call me off." Holding out his left-hand palm up, he tried his best at a pleading smile. "Come on, it's at least worth a shot and you could get away with suffering through a few extra months to part ways on good and trusted terms. That's not too much to ask, right?"
Unfortunately, it was the wrong thing to say. While Kenji had received his initial proposal on sucking up to the boss with at least furrowed brows and consideration of his words, his expression hardened at the final sentence.
"No."
John blinked, taken aback. "What?"
"No," Kenji repeated, standing up straighter and crossing his arms over his chest. He still failed to hide his shaky hands as he did so, however. "You also don't understand. After what I've discovered… I just can't remain here, down underground by myself in this paltry lab." He looked around, nose wrinkling. "I need to leave, to return to a proper laboratory and finish my work! To stay down here, even if it does end up only being a few months more as you claim, is unacceptable!"
Kenji flung out a hand towards John, the large grunt tightening his grip on his handgun in preparation but stopped short of pulling the trigger when the scientist only used the motion to gesture at him.
"Take you for example. You're standing here because of me, because of my work! I still don't understand how it happened fully but think of the possibilities if I'm allowed to continue!" Kenji thrust his hand at him, taking a step away from the table and closer to John. "He demands pokemon from me, and to what end? To sell? To use in battle? With just a prototype made from spare parts, substandard I might add, I instead gave him you!" The doctor threw both of his hands up in a dramatic display. "A man! Doesn't that count for something?"
John wasn't prepared or willing to answer that question on Giovanni's behalf, but he was keen to help Kenji see reason.
"I mean, I personally appreciate it. Sort of." Warily eyeing the scientist and keeping his gun trained on him, John winced. "But what you or I think about it doesn't matter at the moment Doc. I'll say it once again, the boss was deadly serious when he ordered me to come here and make sure you don't leave. Now, I've tried to interpret that in another way that doesn't involve me using this," he nodded to his handgun once more, "but that option needs you to go along with it to work." John's frown deepened. "Even if I just walk away and let you go, the boss isn't going to just give up and do the same. Plus then he'll want my arse as well." Through gritted teeth, he breathed out a slow sigh. "Look, one way or another I'm going to be the only one leaving this lab tonight. At least think this over Doc, please."
There was no immediate reply. The lab descended into an uneasy silence, both men looking at one another without diverting their attention elsewhere. John remained where he was standing in between Kenji and the sealed door that led to freedom, with the loaded gun in his hand dissuading any attempt to bypass him. Then, with one finger pushing his glasses up so they sat in a better position on his nose, Kenji broke the silence with a gesture of his head towards the weapon.
"Will you even be able to do it?" he asked, barely managing to keep the wobble out of his voice. "Murder me in cold blood? Purely because someone else ordered you to?"
The gnawing feeling in the pit of John's stomach flared up again, and it took all of his willpower to avoid wincing and instead keep a steady expression when he answered.
"Unfortunately this wouldn't be the first time," he admitted, still keeping his gun trained on the doctor. "Boss seems to be stuck on having me be his number one guy for doing his dirty work. I would rather be driving vans and even suffering through working with other grunts to be honest." He tried one last play, one final hope at getting through to Kenji. "Guess that makes two of us being unsatisfied with our jobs, huh?"
Kenji didn't answer straight way, his shoulders slumping and his eyes briefly closing before he fixed John with an unreadable stare. "Maybe you're right." Then, with a quiet scoff, he smiled lightly and rested his arms down by his sides. "Although, even if I will be unable to finish my work, at least I realise something now."
Heart sinking at just how final Kenji was, John muttered out a short query. "What's that?"
"When my machine melted, months of work destroyed with only you to show for it, the boss told me that I had failed. He wanted powerful pokemon he could use, that's all he ever wanted from me, and anything else wasn't good enough." Breathing out, Kenji took another step forwards, closing the distance between them to only a few metres left. "I admit that I believed him, and I toiled to finish my work and prove him wrong, prove everyone wrong. But now, I know that on that day, I did not fail."
With a final nod, Kenji held out a hand palm up towards John, his smile still present even though his eyes were wet.
"I gave him you. And, in doing so, I believe I gifted him what he actually wanted all along…"
Heart beating in his ears, John gritted his teeth and waited for Doctor Kenji to slowly breath out and hand down his verdict.
"From that portal, out came the monster he was hoping for."
The sentence was punctuated by a single gunshot that rang out throughout the small and isolated lab, followed by a solid thump against the metal floor.
"Hubba hubba, is that a bikini or just a piece of string you're wearing?"
Reclining back in his pilot's seat, Ivan took a sloppy gulp of strong coffee from his thermos and turned the swimsuit magazine sideways for a proper look. Still wearing his visored helmet and a wide grin, he took in as much of page thirty's seductive glory as he could with only the dulled cockpit lights for illumination.
"Hmm, I wonder how likely it will be for Boss to want a trip to Alola anytime soon…"
Smirking to himself and mentally calculating up his saved vacation days, the Team Rocket pilot was broken out of his planning by the sound of one of side doors to the rear of the helicopter sliding open. With a short and near silent grumble to himself at the interruption he lowered the magazine and debated whether to throw it down to join the pile of similar 'reading' material stacked up on the co-pilot seat, before he settled on just turning his head slightly back and calling out a question to his solitary passenger for the night.
"Done already? That was a quick audit."
Truth be told he actually had no clue as to just why he had been tasked with flying the large man out to one of the secluded labs at such an hour, nor had he cared to ask. At least this time the impressive mass of the man was travelling by himself which meant no last-minute checking of weights or emergency dumping of fuel. He even had pants on this time as well, a proper full uniform of a Team Rocket grunt to boot. Ivan also noticed that his passenger was far less red this time around, an improvement from the day a few months ago when his boss had emerged from the very same lab they were currently at with the towel-wearing man in tow.
None of this had been voiced of course, Ivan just chalking it all up to the usual Team Rocket activity that came with the territory. He was just there to fly the helicopter and get paid, and besides, he'd seen far weirder things without batting an eye.
"If only I was that lucky," his bulky and oddly accented passenger sighed back, the briefest glimpse of a leather covered arm visible from the gap between the cockpit and rear seating compartment. "Nah, I just came back to grab something and I'll probably be another hour or so at least. Soz to keep you waiting."
Unseen to him, Ivan's grin was wide and his gloved hand was already reaching for another magazine.
"No complaints from me; we're running on overtime hours anyway. Take as long as you need."
"Cheers," came the reply, sounding everything but cheery before the side door was shut once again and Ivan was left alone to pass the time with more coffee and reading to do.
So engrossed was he in his drink and ogling page twenty-four, the pilot completely missed his passenger returning to the isolated cabin with a sturdy shovel in hand. Time flew by, another magazine came and went, and his thermos was threatening to run completely dry just as the passenger door once again slid open and allowed the brisk night air to blow into the chopper's interior. Something metal clacked against the floor in the back and the vehicle lurched on its wheels to the left side as a tell-tale weight climbed aboard before settling down in the middle. Already setting his magazine aside, Ivan screwed the lid back on his thermos and threw a question out to the rear.
"Take-off time then?"
"Yeah, we should be good to go."
"Roger that," Ivan chuffed, checking his dials while flicking a few switches on. The helicopter started to come to life with the rotors beginning to spool up, and they were just about ready to lift off when his passenger spoke up from the back again.
"Hey, might come across as a stupid question, but is there anywhere back at HQ that I could grab a drink? I could kill for a beer, or ten, right now."
Ivan, interest peaked, momentarily turned his attention away from the controls to throw a grin back over his shoulder.
"Unless it's water or from a vending machine, nope. No alcohol at all, Boss's orders. Something about you grunts being bad enough as you are."
"Damn."
"Yeah, pity." Chuckling to himself, a sneaky idea popped into Ivan's head and he made sure to hum loud enough to be heard from the back. "Although, there might be a way around that…"
It paid off, and he could hear the man shuffling in the seat behind him. "Like what?"
"You got some cash on you?"
A second's pause, his comment sure to have raised eyebrows.
"Might have a couple hundred or so." A few moments passed. "Why, exactly?"
Gripping the control stick, Ivan increased the throttle and went in for the kill at the same time he eased the helicopter into the air.
"Well, I might happen to know a place that's open this late and somewhat heli-accessable. For a price, of course."
"Just where has he slinked off to this time? Don't suppose you've picked up anything Weave?"
Viv, in uniform and stomping down the metal corridors of the Team Rocket HQ with her hands shoved in her pockets, sighed when the pokemon walking by her side shook her head and murmured out a negative.
"Well he's not in his room, the Doc hasn't seen him, and he's not in the med centre, so we're running out of places to check." Storming past a pair of grunts, the unfamiliar men likely stuck on a night shift patrol, she ignored their questioning gazes and continued on around a long corner. "You wouldn't think it would be that hard to find him, 'specially since it's past twelve and he isn't that small."
Vivian huffed out through a frown while Weave snickered into a claw. Once again John had been sent out on some late-night hush-hush job and, as per usual, he had refused to share any of the details with her while citing the same 'operational security' buzzword he loved to use. Left in the dark, well figuratively at least considering the strong florescent lights that lined the ceiling of every inch of the HQ, all that she had managed to squeeze out from him was that it was probably going to be fairly short and very unpleasant. The big guy had seemed even more glum than usual when talking about it too, so naturally when Viv had learned that the helicopter had arrived back after a few hours absence she had set off to find him with Weave in tow.
With the usual haunts already ticked off their search was expanding out to the rarer places for John to frequent, the grunt and her pokemon combing the corridors with both eyes and nose for any trace of the man. The occasional group of grunts or night guards still up and about gave them quizzical looks but didn't stop them to ask what they were doing, and even if they did Viv could just whip out and point to the handy elevated access level on her ID that came courtesy with essentially being John's handler. Though with his increasing familiarity with the big boss himself and the sensitive nature of his role in the Team, she had to question if she would remain as a pseudo higher rank for much longer.
'At least I'll always be his superior in everything else that's actually important,' she silently consoled herself, before she turned her attention back to the hunt for John just as she and Weave reached the next destination on their list of places to check.
The glass-ceiling courtyard and 'outdoor' recreation dome was, unsurprisingly given the late hour and moon-light sky up high above, seemingly completely devoid of any activity human or otherwise. Even the usual recordings of birdsong and other outdoor ambiance were shut off for the night, leaving just the light splashes of the artificial stream in the middle of the grassy space and the light breeze filtering in through the ceiling vents as the sole sounds audible. Without leaving the doorway and staying in the corridor leading back into the main base, Viv gave the empty benches and spread-out trees a look over before slumping her shoulders in a sigh.
"Urgh, nothing," she lamented out loud. "Maybe the library I guess?" Mid-turn to leave, she glanced down to her side when Weave clacked her teeth together. "What?"
"Eavile," the pokemon whispered back, her eyes focused on something out in the recreation area with the feathers on her head folded back. Vivian tried to follow Weave's pointed claw but even with the moonlight from above she couldn't make out anything distinct. Still, she wasn't going to doubt the experienced dark type when it came to finding and spotting things at night.
"If you say so. Let's go check it out."
Following the weavile across the grass, Viv was led towards one of the small green hills that broke up the otherwise fairly flat ground. Upon getting closer Weave slowed and hunched down to make herself smaller, probably more out of habit even if it could be said that they were technically on a hunt and stalking prey, and half to humour her pokemon and half to potentially surprise John if it was actually him Viv followed her cue and did the same. A few steps away and she suddenly saw what she had first thought was just a shadow move, Weave freezing in place at the same time before turning her head back to grin in affirmation.
'Bingo.'
Still crouched, Viv navigated her way up to the top of the hill before she quickly stood up and leaned over forwards. Her eyes and smirk found what she was looking for, the figure laying down on their back on the opposite incline blinking back at her with his mouth half-open.
"Hah, found you!" she gloated, pointing down at John just as Weave burst out around from the side with a loud 'naaaa!' of victory and her claws raised above her shoulders in mock threat. "Surprised you didn't we John?"
With her smirk still wide on her face she took notice of just where her fellow grunt's right hand was. Specifically, at how it was shoved halfway into his pocket with a flash of black metal just visible in his gloved fingers.
'Oh yeah, should probably not surprise him too much now that I think about it…'
She managed to hold her expression and play it off like she hadn't noticed, the man she was standing over likewise managing to crack out a smile back while smoothly pulling his hand back and making a show of scratching his waist at the side.
"Shit yeah you did," he said with a slight and short chuckle, before he looked at Weave and gave the weavile with her claws raised and fanged grin a quick once over. "Who wouldn't be terrified if something like that snuck up on them in the night?"
Weave chortled, crossed her arms, and raised her nose into the air with a smug look on her face. Both John and Viv shared at look at each other and, after coming to a silent agreement to not mention anything about what had just occurred, Viv circled around to the other side while keeping the gentle incline of the grassy hill in mind.
"About that John, why exactly are you out here this late?"
"Ambiance," he snorted back, raising an eyebrow in return. "Why, were you looking for me Viv? Keeping tabs on me now are you?" Waggling his jaw from side to side, the smile gained the tiniest touch of a smirk. "Dare I say… worried about me?"
She scoffed at that and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, worried about leaving you unsupervised for more than five minutes more like. Don't flatter yourself." With Weave breaking out into snickers as her support, Vivian leaned in closer and narrowed her eyes at the rectangular object nestled into the crook of his left arm. "Hey, is that…"
"It's nuffin," John answered quickly, drawing his arm closer around the suspect item to no avail. Unable to hold back her snort of disbelief, Viv hit him with a sideways glance.
"Boxed wine? Really?" Her hands went to her hips and she tutted. "And people tell me that I lack class and sophistication."
"Fuckoff," he fired back, one finger raised and almost seeming offended. "One, I was raised comfortably middle-class thank you very much, we had two double-door fridges and everything. Two," the finger was pointed towards his huddled prize. "This here isn't called box wine, it's called goon. I'll have you know that this is a nationally endorsed drink and a cultural icon of my people."
"Oh, well excuse me mister hoity-toity two-fridge, I didn't mean to offend." Turning her mock bow of apology into a slide down and settling into a sitting position beside him, Vivian gave his box wine and the starry night sky above a pointed look. "I wasn't aware laying on the grass and chugging booze was the peak of refinement."
"Well, I wouldn't say the peak exactly," John admitted. "We're lacking a rotary clothesline and some pegs for one, so no 'goon of fortune' tonight. However, in trying times, a man must make do." Directly after he said it he leaned his head back in the grass and opened his mouth, both hands holding the box up above him so that an admittedly impressive amount of cheap wine could flow directly down into his gullet. Both Weave and Viv watched him go with enraptured fascination (and maybe just a smidge of horror) for a full five seconds, before the flow was cut off and the box was offered out to Vivian with a satisfied burp and grin. "Want some? It's too sweet and pretty shit."
Viv snorted at the description but took the offered box anyway, which felt like it was about halfway full. "Don't quiet your day job to become a wine salesman, John." Squirting a bit into her own mouth, Viv struggled to not scrunch up her face when she found out that he was unfortunately correct. "Damn, I think that's actually the most honest thing you've said so far." Handing the box back to him, she shook her head. "Why waste the money?"
"Shit day, or night I guess, at work," he stated with a grumble and all the sourness that was missing from his beverage. "I needed something, and goon is one of the only things here that reminds me of home." The box in his hand was stared at for a second. "Huh, grim." Then, as quickly as it had arrived, the slight frown vanished with a shrug. "But also they were on special and pretty bloody cheap. You can't not buy goon when it's half off Viv, that's pretty much a mortal sin."
Glossing over most of the latter stuff he had said, Viv raised an eye at one particular word. "You said 'they' just then."
John paused, but he didn't try to go for a denial. Instead he breathed out a mock sigh and lifted up the leather jacket draped over his legs, the top of a second identical box of alcohol peaking out from its spot nestled in-between his thighs. "Oof, busted. Sue me for picking up an extra, I need this okay."
Viv just raised her hands in exaggerated surrender, her fellow dismissing her before he made to lift up the box for another long swig.
"Weavile?"
Both humans stopped and turned their attention to Weave when she spoke up from the other side of John, the weavile sitting down in the grass cross-legged with her red eyes bright in the gloom and fixed on the goon.
"Uh, yeah," began John, evidently unsure of what to say going off the hesitation. "Weave, this isn't something meant for pokemon. I think. In fact I don't even know if it's meant for human consumption at this point and I used to drink concentrated bottom-shelf vodka condensed down in a chemistry set by a guy with a porno 'stache. It doesn't taste that great."
In response, Weave frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. With one clawed hand tapping against her puffed out chest and the other pointing at the desired boxed beverage, she said a series of poke-words that probably loosely translated to 'It's just a human drink, I'm not afraid of it'.
Predictably, rather than try to debate the pokemon on the merits of allowing her to drink, John instead pussied out and turned his gaze onto Vivian for guidance.
Scoffing, with both her co-worker seeking an answer from her and her pokemon likewise directing a 'don't fuck me on this' look in her direction, Viv just shrugged.
"Eh, let her try some if she wants, she's a big girl." Turning to Weave straight after, she shook her head at the excited weavile. "Trust me, you aren't going to like this."
Snorting and with a dismissive wave of her claw at Viv, Weave leaned in towards John with her mouth open in a grin and head tilted back. Having given up, John shook his head one last time before he relented and sat up with the goon at the ready. A short squirt of bottom shelf wine was delivered directly into Weave's mouth, the pokemon sitting back on her rear in the grass and happily swishing the liquid around in her mouth to get a good taste.
At least for the first second or so.
Both humans struggled to hold back their laughter as the normally composed pokemon's eyes widened and her mouth quivered, Weave going stock still when her tastebuds finally processed the utter swill they were being subjected to. With her checks bulged and looking like she was about to be sick, she looked at them both with a mixture of disgust and betrayal. Then, likely aided out of refusal to show any weakness and a large helping of sheer will, Weave managed to loudly swallow the liquid under much duress. She still couldn't help the almost involuntary wiping of her tongue on a furry forearm, although she at least managed to hold on long enough to twist around on the spot and try to conceal what she was doing from the two uniformed criminals.
"Delicious, right Weave?" John teased in the middle of his chortling, the Weavile flipping him off with a middle claw without even turning around to glare at him. It didn't dissuade the large grunt however, and instead just seemed to encourage him further. "Ah come on, no need for that." The boxed wine was waggled in his hand, sounding pretty close to being empty. "Want to try it again? Everyone knows that the dregs are the best part!"
"Ev-ile," came the grumbled response, Viv stepping in to aid her besieged pokemon partner with a snicker of her own.
"Don't waste them on her then, you're nearly out." With a pointed look to his covered legs, she wrinkled her nose. "You'll be down to only one 'goon' then, and I'm not even feeling a buzz yet."
John just shifted his eyes from side to side before lowering his voice. "I wouldn't worry about it; I've got another couple of them stashed away in my room for a rainy day."
"I thought you said you only picked up 'one' extra?"
"I fibbed," he replied matter-of-factly, looking her dead in the eye before he guzzled down the last of the first box in one fell swoop and set it aside. Viv couldn't even be mad at him, her large friend already retrieving the second box from between his legs. The cardboard was cracked and the spout expertly extracted from inside, John presenting the fresh box to her in both hands. "The first drink of a new goon, allow me to offer you the honour."
"Charmed," replied Viv in her best impersonation of a rich Galaren, accepting the box from him and already having resigned herself to suffering through the defiled remains of once-noble fruit.
'Oh well, what else are friends for if not for helping you get rid of your booze?'
The first burst of fresh goon graced her tongue at the same time John reached under his jacket and withdrew another item, the large packet of flavoured potato chips popping open and releasing the enticing smell of cheese and onions.
"See?" he said, popping one in his mouth and crunching down. "I didn't just buy grog."
"I'm so proud of you." It was punctuated by Viv taking another shot of wine, the taste actually getting more tolerable the more she drank. Meanwhile John just smirked at her, before he rustled the chip packet in his hands and offered it out to Weave. With her nose wrinkling, the pokemon paused her attempts to remove the taste of the goon from her tongue with her own arm fur.
"Here Weave, try some of these instead." Seeing the pokemon turn back around and eye the chips with suspicion, John made a show of picking out and enjoying a second chip. "Mhmm, yeah. Don't worry, these ones are actually much better. Pinky promise."
Either his words or the actual smell of the offered food managed to win the weavile over, Weave hesitantly reaching out to seize a single morsel in her claws. A single experimental lick later and the bag was taken from him so fast that a causal observer would have thought that Weave knew the move Thief, and John just smiled and allowed her to start digging into the bag without any attempt to stop her.
Deciding to not follow her pokemon's poor example, Viv shook her head and handed the shared wine box back to John so he could take another drink before she finished it all. "Geez, there will be nothing left for us at this rate. Look at her go." John was preoccupied draining a couple cups or so of wine in one go, so she continued on with a wave of her hand towards the jacket covering his legs. "Don't suppose you're hiding anything else under there?"
Viv knew she had somehow fucked up as soon as she saw the glint in John's eye, the man wiping his mouth with the back of his gloved hand and grinning at her with a toothy smile and a cheeky wink.
"Only some premo sausage."
It was too much. She couldn't even blame it on the paltry amount of alcohol that she'd drunk either, the timing and deep pronunciation of 'sausage' sending her over the edge and into the genuine laughter that had been threatening the two of them since she'd first sat down.
Weave only made things worse, the weavile's ears perking up at the mention of more food. Face lathered in chip remains, she hit John with a dose of puppy dog eyes and made a pointed glance down towards his jacket-covered lap. It obliterated Viv's sides and she keeled over in the grass with her loud amusement threating to alert the entire HQ to their late-night (and heavily banned) drinking session, earning a confused look from her pokemon as to why the concept of a delicious treat was so funny while leaving a suddenly back peddling John to try and explain the joke.
"It's… uh, well you see Weave, um…" he was obviously struggling to come up with a way to communicate what he meant, the weavile leaning in and fully focused on his upcoming explanation. To bolter himself, John held up a finger asking for a brief pause before taking another gulp of goon. "Well, there isn't an actual sausage in the way you're thinking, it's ah… a euphemism." A blank stare. "You know, a metaphor?" Still nothing. John shot Viv a pleading look but was only met with continued laughter so he had to continue on without her help.
"Okay, to put it simply, the only thing resembling a sausage between my legs at the moment should definitely never be consider an actual food item intended for eating." He pointed a finger at Weave to make sure she got the point. "And unlike the goon, this time I'm one-hundi percent sure that this one is definitely not intended for pokemon."
Then, through the tears forming in her eyes, Vivian witnessed Weave's black pupils finally widen in sudden realisation while at the same time John visibly braced for the inevitable result.
Vivian was joined by her pokemon in extended and uproarious mirth.
"Smith, enter."
John adjusted his black uniform cap and pushed the doors to the Boss's office open, a quick huff into his gloved hand confirming that his breath smelt of a pristine minty freshness instead of the shitty wine he'd spent a decent part of the previous night consuming with Viv. It hadn't been enough to impair him or give any other persistent effects except for a dry mouth upon waking up, but he wasn't keen on the Boss finding out about the mini-pissup in the indoor park regardless. Strolling into the office, he tried to at least keep the smile on his face despite the fairly early wakeup and the upcoming topic of conversation. At least the few hours of relaxing with Weave and Viv had helped to lift his mood somewhat.
Apparently Giovanni had little to no trouble with dealing with the fact that he had ordered a man to be killed only the day prior, judging by how the criminal boss was sitting back comfortably in his executive chair with a cup of coffee in his hand and a relaxed smile on his face. The suit he'd chosen for the day was a conservative charcoal grey in colour, which helped the crimson red tie and golden tie clip pop out a bit more. Of course the other accessory the boss always seemed to have on hand, that being Persian, was present laying down on the floor near his master's chair. And the less said about the feline pokemon's mood, especially when the big cat caught sight of John through one open eye, the better.
"Good morning Boss, and Persian," he greeted with a tip of his hat, and Giovanni nodded back before taking a sip of his drink.
"It probably will be," his employer answered while Persian just growled out something that at least sounded less openly hostile than usual. "But that depends on how things went last night. I assume since you're here in my office this morning that our problem has been resolved. How did it go?"
John grunted and sat down in the foldable metal chair that had been placed out for him.
"Like shit."
Surprisingly Giovanni didn't lambaste him for his colourful choice of wording his feelings, and instead just nodded again with his smile still intact.
"Unpleasant situation aside, I was referring to the actual task I gave you. Was Doctor Kenji taken care of?"
"He was," answered John with a crossing of his arms over his chest. Focusing on trying to keep it short and simple, he conceded that the briefing was going to happen regardless of any hangups and that just getting it over with was preferable to having a whinge to a boss who wouldn't care anyway. "Kenji was pretty dissatisfied with how things were working out for him and he felt like you were hampering his life's work. Said that if he had a proper lab with some assistants then he could have had a working portal up before the end of the year." The deceased doctor was at least owed a chance to have his misgivings heard, but as predicted it did little to sway Giovanni.
"A proper lab and multiple assistants," the suited man repeated with a scoff, his expression threatening to lower down into a frown before he shook his head and gave a dismissive wave with his free hand. "As if his attempts hadn't already drained enough money away. Well, no matter, it's over now I suppose." Swishing the coffee in his cup around, the boss fixed the large grunt with a raised eyebrow. "The body?"
"Buried him onsite, off to the rear of fence line. Nice soft soil with some fresh grass coming in, in a week you won't even be able to tell the difference."
"Perfect, now all that's left is to have my laboratory cleaned up and ready to have some new talent take over." Grin back in full force, Giovanni took a sip of coffee before speaking again. "Oh, and the matter of your payment for another job well done."
John cocked an eye. "I thought that it just gets transferred to my account."
"It does, but I'm not talking about just money. I did say that this morning would be a good one."
'Oh shit,' John thought with an internal wince, barely able to stop it from showing on his face. 'He's going to want to 'spar' again, isn't he? Teach me how to box by rearranging my face.'
Taking a moment, he tried to think of a way of how to word his thoughts without coming off like a flaky bitch.
"Boss, I… ah, appreciated the training session last week and I would like to do more like you suggested, but I might not be in top form today." He made a show of yawning into his hand. "Late nights filled with digging and all that, really takes it out of ya, you know?"
In response Giovanni's shoulders shook with a restrained chuckle, the man placing his coffee cup down on his desk and rubbing his hands together.
"I can't say that I do, but I can guess. No Smith, although you do need some more training to get your slovenly boxing form up to shape and I will of course be more than willing to lend aid to a subordinate, I'm afraid that I have some appointments to attend to at the Veridian Gym and can't spare the time today."
John allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief at the news, but then the tell-tale tone of mild excitement tainted with a touch of subtle evil in his boss's next words sent a shiver down his spine.
"But I do have something special to give you."
With the criminal boss leaning forwards over his desk, eyes locked on his 'lucky' employee and searching for any juicy signs of reaction with a predatory grin, John was under siege and unable to prevent himself from moistening his lips and swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Oh," he managed out with a nervous laugh. "Goodie."
"Indeed. A nice pairing of a bonus for satisfactory job performance and perhaps a chance for you to improve on some of your… less developed skills." Before John could anxiously question just which lacking skills were being referenced his boss answered his unspoken query in a very direct way. From out of a pocket in his suit jacket Giovanni pulled a spotless and shiny red and white ball with a black band around the middle, a single press of his finger expanding it (against all scientific reasoning as far as John was aware) into an orb that fit comfortably in his palm. With a smiled scoff at the way John was eyeing the magical capsule, he gave the ball a quick toss into the air before catching it again. "You can thank two of my most capable agents for sending this back all the way from Alola, although the pokemon in question is originally from the Kalos region. I picked it out from the selection with you in mind."
John, eyeing the pokeball in his employer's hand, took a moment to try and gather his thoughts. "I… well Boss, I have to admit that I wasn't expecting… something like that." He recalled some of the pokemon, both previously owned and caught from the wild, that he'd been involved in transporting. Specifically the really ticked-off purple ones with poisonous horns. "Is it safe?"
"The pokeball I'm holding is one of our own, stripped of all the League's meddling tracking identification methods and set up with a basic fake registration to your legally recognised identification. Finding that it had a former owner is next to near impossible even if the police catch you for something else. Not that it would be an ideal situation regardless."
"What I meant was, if this thing is freshly stolen, what happens if I pop it out and it decides it'd rather maul someone then play nice?" John didn't like the way that Giovanni's smile only grew at his clarification, as if the thought of some vicious beast tearing him a new arsehole was amusing to the criminal kingpin.
"Then consider it your first test as a new trainer."
The words hung in the air for a moment, but then the Boss's mouth cracked open into a light chuckle.
"Ha, it was a joke Smith. Well, half of one." Transferring the pokeball to his right hand, Giovanni stretched his left down somewhere out of sight by his chair. "If it proves too much to handle at first then recall it and attempt to figure it out, but with Persian here I'm sure that won't need to happen."
His explanation was followed by Persian purring out a rumbling affirmative, the pokemon not hesitating to back up his master's words even if it would be to aid a human he apparently despised. Or, more likely in John's mind, the cat's eagerness was less out loyalty and rather borne from an innate desire to scare the shit of whatever poor creature was set to be released. On that topic…
"Hang on," John interjected with a raised finger. "You're not actually planning to unleash that thing in your office right now, are you?" The smirk he got in response was far from reassuring, and he gave a pointed look around the huge space that his boss was afforded. "I know that you've got enough room in here to park several cars, but shouldn't we do this somewhere more… appropriate?"
"I decide what is appropriate, so no," replied Giovanni, following up the straightforward reminder. "I don't know why you're so concerned; you don't even know what is in here."
That was true. John had managed to learn about a fair number of local pokemon, even if it was only matching pictures to their surprisingly helpful species names. Well, mostly. Some names were still a little difficult to get right exactly. Not including 'rattata', 'weavile', or 'buizel' of course, as even though the pair of pokemon belonging to first two groups were enigmas in many ways he liked to think that he could at least identify them properly.
Even if he could get every name completely correct, it wouldn't help him guess which one of the fifty or so was in the ball however. Especially since the Boss had given him little to go off save for the confident opinion that Persian could take whatever it was in a scrap and the strangely flattering info about how he'd taken one look at it and gone 'yep, that one right there is John to a t'. It conjured up images of the potential creature contained within, from buff fighting type wrestlers and weightlifters to terrifying dragons radiating power. Hell, he even thought of a snorlax, having investigated just what the creature was after being compared to it multiple times. A large and in charge monster of a pokemon with a love of eating and ability to crush enemies with sheer mass alone? He could cope with that, even if between them they would cost Team Rocket an arm and a leg in food bills.
Still, he continued to eye the pokeball in question with trepidation, even if he was somehow managing to mentally win himself over to the idea of actually owning a pokemon. Max and Viv seemed to enjoy running around with theirs after all. Noticing the Boss watching him and waiting for an answer, John covered up his concern at the satanic black-magic ball with a quick cough into his fist.
"Nah, I know what's in there," he claimed with a pointed finger. "I'm not just a pretty face, it's a pokemon isn't it?"
The raised brows and dismissive scoff from Giovanni was the closet he'd gotten to landing an intentional joke with his boss so far, the normally reserved man in the grey suit nodding in acknowledgement.
"Correct, I suppose." Then, in a move that purged all good humour from John, the pokeball was offered to him in an outstretched hand. "But why resort to guesses when you can just open it?"
John, with his shaky understanding of laws regarding both mass and thermodynamics, didn't immediately accept it.
"Ah, you see…"
"If this is about your issues with pokeballs, as Yari has described in little detail, then now is the time to get over them," Giovanni continued on with his tone gaining a bit of sternness. "It's ridiculous that a man who is able to repeatedly commit violence for money is terrified by common devices routinely used by children. Don't make me turn what should be a positive situation into me ordering you to open a single pokeball. It would be an embarrassing display of weakness."
Faced with the threat, John could do little but grit his teeth and gingerly reach out his own gloved hand.
'Just do it. Man up, accept the risk, get it done.' He recalled his previous concerns about how such advanced devices could be powered given what they apparently did. 'Even if it is a pocket nuke or something, as long as it isn't stored near the waist then it shouldn't give me testicular cancer.' His fingers made contact with the polished metal surface, one final though sealing the deal. 'If I back out now in front of the Boss himself, I might as well just give up my physical balls alongside the metaphorical ones anyway.'
He took the ball from Giovanni, holding the object in an overhand grip and giving it a slow look over.
"Congratulations are in order, Smith." Hands now free, Giovanni clapped them together with a smirk wide on his face. Despite it all however, his tone carried a hefty amount of sincerity. "You now have your first official pokemon. Well, official in the sense that I am a licenced pokemon gym leader and gifted it you, the less said about the legality of it the better. However, while it may be trivial for most, a man's first pokemon is special no matter the circumstances." Nodding to the pokeball now clasped in John's hand, Giovanni sat back in his chair with a wistful look in his eyes. "You'll eventually come to cherish this moment for the rest of your life, I can guarantee that."
John, turning his attention away from the potentially dangerous orb in his grip and meeting Giovanni's gaze, managed to reply with a smile after a second's pause.
"Thanks Boss. If it means that much to you, I'll take those words to heart."
"I appreciate it Smith," Giovanni replied with a smile of his own, before he gestured to the large purple 'R' that was set into the polished metal floor just behind where John was sitting. "Well, go ahead and release your new pokemon. I'm anticipating the look on your face when you see the one I picked out for you."
Now grinning himself and with his previous concerns washed away by a combination of excitement and the good vibes from his employer, John almost leapt up from his chair in his haste to see what he had. Doing as directed and facing the spot pointed out with the Boss still sitting at his desk behind him, he held the pokeball out front-first and pushed the button.
Bright light blazed in the dimly lit office, John's breath catching in his throat while he watched it. Up until the very moment he would have never guessed that he would be as excited for what was happening as he was now, the implication sinking in.
A powerful buddy to clown around with, to train with, to act as another grounding rock in his turbulent time in the Team. A beefcake to spot for him, or for John to spot for. A creature he could put his trust in, man to mon, even if meant a long adjustment period and convincing him that he wasn't a complete cunt just because he had knowingly received a stolen pokemon. A Ratterick to his Maxwell, except with more testosterone. A Weave to his Vivian, but preferably with less evil ice-gremlin vibes.
His own pokemon.
The glow quickly faded and John was left standing on the spot next to his empty chair, taking in the sight of the creature that was blinking its eyes and quickly glancing around the new area it found itself in.
It was a…
It was…
"The species is named 'Meowstic'," Giovanni helpfully spoke up from behind, the glee in his voice far from innocent. "This one is female, one of the few pokemon with a substantial difference in look between the sexes. A pure psychic type."
John just stared in silence at the small creature before him, the feline-looking pokemon barely taller than his knee standing on two legs with her long ears just high enough to be level with his upper thigh. Said ears were folded over on each other, with a spot of fluffy curls on the very tips. It was mostly white in colour with twin tufts of fur on each hip, although the deep blue fur (also curled) on its head vaguely resembled a beret hat with the matching band around its neck looking like a thick collar or scarf. Also blue was the fur on the latter half of all four limbs, giving the creature the appearance of wearing thigh-high stockings and elbow-length gloves. Last but not least were the two large tails, also curled, being as long as the entire pokemon was high with another band of blue where they connected to the body.
"Probably not exactly what you had in mind I suppose, but there are some similarities between you two I'm sure."
Still silent, John struggled to keep his expression neutral while his boss was obviously enjoying the reveal far more then he was.
'He fucking planned this. He fucking planned this. Hit me with the genuine emotional windup and everything. Holy shit the malicious, Machiavellian, conniving, motherfucking…'
In the middle of his absolute seething, John saw the 'Meowstic' tear her focus away from the seated Team Rocket leader to instead look up at him with her expression still measured even if she was frozen on the spot with her darting eye movements betraying her nervousness. After a few seconds of the yellow eyes with bright red pupils boring into his own, after giving his uniform a once over they immediately narrowed into an obvious look of directed hatred.
'Oh and I was completely right as well; it's more pissed off than a dingo with a bindi-covered ballsack. Fucking marvellous.'
Engaged in the stare-off with the equally irritated pokemon, John at least was wise enough to not dismiss and turn away from the still-potentially dangerous creature because of its unimpressive stature. Instead he remained still, kept his voice even, and forced out a reply to his arsehole of a boss through gritted teeth.
"Ah, you've gifted me a small, bipedal, cat." John masked a bit of his rage with the swallowing of some saliva. "Boss, you really shouldn't have."
AN: First off, thanks to the commenters who took guesses as to what Gio had picked out to give to Smith. They all fit in pretty well and if I hadn't already locked it in ages ago due to planned out plot stuff I would have given them a serious consideration as a suggestion. Except the Malamar, John with a walking (sorta) giant squid that is specialised in mind-control is too dangerous and is banned. I'm sure he'd prefer it over what he ended up with however, even if his boss seems to think that a notoriously stroppy, selfish, and temperamental creature prone to lashing out when it doesn't get its way is for some reason similar to him. Completely false. (Although, maybe Giovanni has been paying more attention to his new acquisitioned employee then it first apparent). Or, more likely, the idea of pairing outspoken and tough-guy bully John with a diminutive and cutesy 'shouldermon' was more amusing.
Also I should note, as I myself despise this in stuff I read, don't expect his pokemon to be capable of teleporting everywhere and being almost like a god because of the physic typing. I feel like too many fics amp every physic pokemon up to absurd levels, often rivalling and sometimes surpassing the feats that legendaries pull off. Hopefully I'll manage to make it work without going too far in either direction.
RIP Kenji, who flew too close to the sun and hedged his bets on his boss being fairly toothless. Reminds me of the Russian missile scientist who got arrested because he published state secrets in a public scientific journal. Not for revenge or money, just did it because he was proud of what he had done and didn't stop to think of what would happen. Or the infamous world of tanks leaker.
Finally I'm sorry for the delay in updating the chapter. I try to aim for once a fortnight (generally on Tuesday evenings) but I'm getting buried under assignments, work, and trying to set up the next thirty years of my life while trying to ignore the fact that the supermarkets around me are running out of eggs to sell in a supposed 'first-world' country while everyones power bills are going up by a full 25% next month. Everyone, that includes businesses and households. So fun times. Still, I'm not in government so what can you do eh? I'll try to wrangle myself back to a fortnight schedule once everything slows down. Until next time.
