In the cosmopolitan building with its bright light and stark atmosphere, Gavin could easily be mistaken for the businessman he was posing as should the League get involved in their operation. Clad in suit and tie, with the jacket shed and hung on a peg beside the door, he does not look like a criminal, but there's a predatory sharpness to the look that Alexandra Briarwood is offered when she opens the doors. There is no mistaking that he's the one she's here to see.

Wordlessly, he beckons to the chair on the other side of the desk. A cigarette is stubbed out in an ashtray within his reach; the only window in the room is cracked to air out the smoke.

"You know why you're here," Gavin says, when she sits. It's not a question. His voice is deep, but not loud — it doesn't have to be. He expects to be listened to. "What do you want from our organization?"

Lex wasn’t quite sure what to expect when she walked into the office but the blonde, sharply dressed man exuding confidence didn’t surprise her. The quietly shut and Lex moved forward, sliding gracefully into the chair Gavin had motioned towards. Her shoulders relaxed and she crossed her legs, looking across the desk towards Gavin.

He looked towards her and spoke bluntly. Lex could appreciate him getting right to the point. Lex nodded along with his factual statement; she did indeed know why she was here. If she didn’t know, she was certainly of no use to him or his colleagues. But the next question caught her a bit off guard. She took a moment’s pause, tilting her head ever so slightly to side. The corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile. She was sure someone of his stature and knowledge knew me about her than he led on. But fine, if he wanted it from her own lips, he could have it.

“Well,” she began, settling into the chair, “I have certain . . . talents I can offer your organization,” her words were chosen carefully, and also purposefully stated as facts. She knew she was good at what she did. Lex assumed those facts had made it up through the grapevine at this point. If Gavin required more detail, she was sure he would ask for clarification, “In exchange for these services I only ask for the bare essentials: safety, food, and a place to stay,” all things she was sorely lacking at the moment, “If your organization can provide these essentials I offer my loyalty and services – no questions asked,” her red lips pulled into a small smirk, watching carefully for a reaction.

Cillian Quinn

Gavin is silent as she speaks, amber eyes never leaving her. Long fingers are tented together; a pale scar marks a path along the back of his left hand.

"You can ask questions," he says, at last, when she is done. Her smirk is met by his unerring neutrality. "I encourage it, in fact. Whether or not they'll be answered is a different matter, but I seek loyalty through understanding rather than ignorance."

His hand dips below the desk, coming up with a carton of cigarettes and a silver lighter. He lights one and takes a thoughtful drag, tilting his head away from her for the first time to breathe the smoke toward the window.

"Accommodations will be provided, and if you're capable you'll earn more than enough to feed yourself." There's a pause before he asks, direct, "What are you running from?"

Encouraged to ask questions? Her brows pinched slightly in concern, that was quite different than the last “organization” she forcibly worked for. Their biggest rule was don’t ask questions. The more she thought about it, the more the was beginning to realize it was more of a dictatorship, and not quite the “organized crime” that described Team Rocket.

Lex watched him begin to smoke, a habit she never really care for. To be good at her job she needed to stay in peak physical condition which meant a healthy cardiorespiratory system which could easily be sabotaged by cigarettes. She was thankful the window was cracked.

Then came the real question, the bread and butter: what was she running from? Lex promised herself she would be honest despite the fact that the story didn’t speak well for her “loyalty”. It was easy to see she was never loyal to her old boss, even while she worked for him. He held her hostage, dangled her dying mother over her head. That was the opposite of how you gained loyalty, blackmail was useless once someone had nothing to lose.

You could see Lex stiffen, becoming immediately uncomfortable and angry as the memories flooded back, “My old boss,” she said distastefully, spitting it out as if the words were poison on her tongue, “He’s . . . put a price on my head. Not dead or alive, just . . . dead,”

Cillian Quinn

She stiffens, and Gavin is immediately on edge. Since she'd entered the room, he has been conscious of every avenue of exit, every nearby object that might be used as a potential weapon should he be unable to access his gun in time. Her reaction sees this knowledge recalled in sharp clarity, in preparation for a fight.

This is what Rocket has shaped him into.

She does not reach for a weapon, and neither does he.

"I see." That could be dangerous, but Rocket wasn't above accepting the bad along with the good. Her good was enough to have brought her here, after all; she wouldn't be meeting with Gavin if not for her potential. "Understand that joining our organization is not a band-aid to be ripped off once the wound has healed. If your former boss is out of the picture, we expect you to remain."

It wouldn't be the first time someone had thought to join Rocket temporarily.

He didn’t seem entirely put off by this, but definitely skeptical. Lex watched him carefully as he momentarily pondered her story. It seemed acceptable. He looked back to her explaining how her expected loyalty. The tension in Lex’s shoulder released and she felt physically lighter. He didn't ask why which was curious . . . perhaps he already knew. She didn’t realize how hard her heart was pounding. Her worry began to dissipate, “I’m . . . I’m tired of running,” she admitted, you could see the truth in her eyes. She was exhausted. She hated this life. She craved her old one but without the fear and constant hate. Lex wanted to work again, addicted to the adrenaline that the hunt brought. Lex wanted to build herself into something more than a Cutiefly stuck under the thumb of a Pyroar. She craved appreciation and respect rather than being treated like a disposable tool. She said she would be honest, so she voice her feeling concisely, “I want an opportunity to build more of a life than I’ve had; somewhere where I’m not disposable . . . somewhere people actually want me to be,” she let the vulnerability ooze out of her. Lex didn’t want power or fame or riches . . . just a life she could enjoy for once.

Cillian Quinn

Gavin listens, quietly, and understands.

Sympathy could be taken as a weakness, and he does not let it show as it settles in his mind. He knew what it was to run from your past, your mistakes. He knew the longing for acceptance and approval. He knew the fierce loyalty he felt for Rocket as a result of their faith in him.

If he has not misjudged her, they are similar; she'll do well, he thinks.

He is impassive, smoking his cigarette until it's down to the filter and she's laid her intention bare. There's a silence as he gathers his thoughts into words.

"Your skill has proved sufficient enough to bring you here, with me." That was what Rocket wanted from her, for now. It was a business that cared less about its employees as individuals so much as what they brought to the table. "Set aside what rumours you may have heard of our organization; you are only expendable if you become a threat."

It's only half a lie; to Gavin, it's the truth.

The silence set in for a few moments too long as she finished laying herself bare. Was it too much? Was she too vulnerable for an organization with a sturdy, ruthless reputation? Lex remained silent though her heart rate slowly increased with every passing moment. She cursed herself for the display of weakness. She was honest, but she didn’t mean to come off as too soft. Normally, the thief wasn’t, but her current situation had her emotions running wild.

Finally, he spoke. It wasn’t meant to be a compliment but she took it a such, if only to boost her own spirits. Lex nodded in agreement, “I understand,” she said clearly, acknowledging his careful use of words. Lex leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees, “That won’t be a problem,” she promised. Lex wasn’t reckless or power-hungry. She was known for speed and efficiency: doing her job well and getting out quick.

The acknowledgment of her skills built her confidence enough to ask Gavin a question, “And how can I best serve this organization?” It was a broad question, and perhaps he didn’t have an answer at the moment. To Lex, it was an important one; One that would give her a direction and a better understanding of the expectations he had of her as an employee. Perhaps he had something in particular in mind to demonstrate her value right away, or simply to begin adjusting into her new role slowly.

Cillian Quinn

"Good."

He had earlier encouraged Alexandra Briarwood to ask questions, and is satisfied when she builds up the courage to do so.

"From what I've been told, you'd work best as a stealth operative. That's where we'll focus your assignments." He taps ash from the end of his cigarette, the glow of embers reflected in his glasses. "You'll work for someone that can utilize your skills; I already have a man in mind."

In preparation for a positive outcome to this meeting, he's already told Chu-e Choi about her.

"If you have expected limitations, now would be the time to mention them." He levels her with a serious look. Too often, Rocket's operatives pushed themselves too far in an attempt to avoid weakness. It put not only the individual, but the group at risk. "Don't wait until it's too late."

Cillian Quinn seemed eager to answer her question. He had obviously given it some thought, even mentioning a colleague she would be working with in the future; a Chu-e Choi. She was eager to meet him.

Lex was glad Gavin mentioned limitations. It was something her old employer had no care for. His instructions were final, no matter the task. Luckily, Lex had never had to go too far in her previous jobs in order to satisfy the old boss’ demands.

“Thank you for that consideration,” she voiced her gratitude for the value her previous employer never had, “As far as limitations, I will admit I am not great at battling. Well . . . violence in general I don’t care for. I would rather avoid it if possible. My main goal in a job is to complete it with no one knowing I was even there – in and out: quick, effective, and undetected,” She leaned back in the chair again, continuing, “I can get myself out of a sticky situation or deliver a subtle message but I am by no means an effective enforcer. I train my pokemon for very specific tasks to help me in my line of work, they’re far too valuable for unnecessary battling,” she felt better with that off her chest. Although she was working on building a more robust team for a stronger presence, the training of her thieves took up far too much time to make them effective battlers and they certainly were not disposable.

Cillian Quinn

Gavin has never had the luxury of disliking violence, avoiding battle. He was raised with brutality and bloodshed before Rocket had even got their claws in him.

Still, he dips his head.

"If you're confident that you can get yourself out of a bind, then violence shouldn't be necessary," he agrees, but is quick to add, "However, we put all of our grunts through training. Have to make sure you can handle yourself if you're caught out alone. Which, given the nature of your work, is more than likely. We can keep communication from a distance, but..."

He trails off, allowing her to come to the conclusion for herself.

"I'll make a note in your file," he says. "Non-violent operative. Is that amenable?"

It was never something she had to do. Whether she made it that way by perfecting her stealth or taking the necessary precautions, it didn’t matter. Her plan was to keep doing what she knew was successful. Some extra training wouldn’t hurt though . . .

She nodded as he spoke, “Extra training would be . . . helpful,” she agreed. Now she just needed the extra pokemon. Maybe another trip to the Safari Park or some new routes was in order. She could certainly fill in the blank. It was something that crossed her mind every time she did a job, something she feared. Perhaps that’s why she was so careful, so precise in her planning and execution, “Yea, sounds great, thank you,” she responded to his simple question.

“I assume the man I’m to work with will reach out to me at some point,” it wasn’t really a question, just a thought she spoke out loud, “In the meantime, I’ll work on acquiring some more battle ready pokemon for the training,” What she really meant was disposable pokemon . . . but was that too cruel? If they proved their worth and survived the battles they would indeed become valuable to her.

Cillian Quinn

"We've got someone for that, too," he says of training, his mind on Emma Wolfe. She was to be promoted to admin in the near future; though he'd fallen in love with a Beast, he's sure she'll appreciate the opportunity to sheathe her claws. "You'll be introduced to them both, one way or another."

He nods his approval at her initiative. "Perfect. Then I think it's settled; welcome to Rocket. We'll be in touch."