Killian's powerful knock upon the door rings of police raid; a calm glance at his phone to view his doorbell camera assures Gavin that's not the case, though he does arch a brow upon recognizing his unexpected visitor.

This ought to be interesting.

He gently bookmarks his place before setting the novel down on an end table and going to the door. He opens it, nudging aside the Riolu at his feet to permit entry into the foyer.

"Killian, come in."

It's not until the door is closed, locked, bolted, that Gavin's calm demeanor shifts more intense.

"Is everything all right?"

His basement held a safehouse for emergencies; that's how Decker knew the address.

Killian's expecting a dark and depressing interior, like Gavin's office, but the house is surprisingly pleasant. Gavin had layers color him impressed.

"No." he'd been coy during their last meeting. A stupid choice on Killian's part, one he wouldn't make again.

"We need to talk."

The cherry at the end of his cigarette burns bright and shrinks to ash. Smoke-filled lungs take in the sweet rush of nicotine that pacifies his anger.

Cillian Quinn

"Ah."

It was an ominous introduction but Gavin's not afraid — wary, perhaps, to have the other in his home, but secure enough in his strength and that of his Pokemon to feel safe.

"Well, make yourself comfortable."

He leads the way into the living space with its bright, well-lit interior and the bookshelves that line its upper half. A dusk Lycanroc on one of the couches lifts her head to inspect the guest before dropping it back to her paws and returning to slumber.

Gavin sits down.

"What did you want to discuss?"

He notes the bookshelves on the upper level. The titles are too far away to read, but they've captured his attention. "I didn't know you had such a large collection." Killian says as he sits, taking whatever open seat is across from Gavin.

The cigarette between his lips is extinguished, pressed into the palm of his hand, and stuffed into his pocket. Tension leaves Killian's shoulder with a breath.

He meets the blonde's eye with a calm and focused expression.

"The consequences of your actions."

Cillian Quinn

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

That was kind of the point, after all.

Where Killian Decker extinguishes his cigarette, Gavin lights one of his own and takes a long drag. His brows arch at the implication.

"Consequences?"

This time, he doesn't ask if it's a threat; he only waits for an explanation.

"There shouldn't be." he states plainly. Less to Gavin and more to himself.

"Yes, consequences." a heavy sigh, more of frustration than of anger.

"Lex threw a man out the window of a ship yesterday. Needlessly. Stepped glass into his chest." and he knew only two reasons for why. One sat in front of him, the other, Lulu Flint, likely somewhere being rigid.

"If I hadn't stopped her, I believe she'd have killed to get what we were after." he thought not knew and that knotted his stomach. Killian knew Alexandra Briarwood better than anyone, better than himself sometimes. Or he used to anyway, these days he wasn't so sure.

Cillian Quinn

"Your position doesn't grant you the right to my private life."

It's more a statement than a warning. Killian Decker wasn't the only member of Rocket's upper echelon to remain ignorant of Gavin's personal life. Hell, even THEO BECKETT had much to learn when it came to who the underboss was as a person rather than a scared subordinate.

He listens to Killian without interruption, puffing on his cigarette. When the admin finishes, Gavin drags the cigarette across the ashtray and leans it against the side.

"Needlessly." It's the word he'd latched onto. Almost subconsciously he parrots the words of Declan Walsh. "We can't be bloodthirsty without reason. That's not the goal. Have you spoken to her?"

"My position has nothing to do with it."

Fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose. Another sigh of frustration laced with uncertainty parts his lips.

"I agree." violence was a last resort, an option taken when better ones weren't available. "No, not since it happened." he frowns. Why? Why had he gone to Gavin before her?

"But I will. I wanted to talk with you first." Killian crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat.

"Tell you that you've dragged something dark out of her, and I don't appreciate it."

Emotions rule him despite how hard he's trying not to let them. Anger tightens his shoulders. Fear, dark and heavy, makes his heart race. Love turns rational thought into irrational action.

"I'm tired of being fucked with Merlino."

Cillian Quinn

He's glad, he thinks, that Killian Decker had come to him first.

"All right," he acknowledges.

He can see the anger that turns muscles rigid and eyes hard... but now that he's paying attention, he can see the fear beyond it. The same fear he felt for Emma, for Theo, when they found themselves in danger.

He shelves his heartache.

"I don't intend to fuck with you. Either of you."

His eyes are tired, dark from lack of sleep.

"What's done is done, but I spoke to her after we talked." Killian had suggested against it but Gavin hadn't been deterred. "Told her I intend to be more communicative in the future, and less..."

How did he put the traumas of Kanto into words? It's simple: he can't.

He picks his cigarette back up and pulls on it in lieu of elaboration.

"What?" a Deerling in headlights, Killian pulled his gaze from the floor to meet Gavin's exhausted ambers. "She didn't mention the two of you spoke again." they were supposed to be beyond keeping things from each other.

This constant circle he kept walking in tried his patience.

"I find it hard to be appreciative."

Cigarette smoke wafted in his direction and burned a craving at the back of Killian's throat. Fighting it put another ton of pressure onto his shoulders.

"Especially when I'm waiting for the catch."

Cillian Quinn

Gavin's brows vanish beneath a blond fringe.

"I didn't ask her not to, this time."

He'd figured she told him everything and that such suggestions were pointless. Trouble in paradise?

Fuck, Gavin can relate to that.

He tilts his head to blow the smoke away from Killian Decker's face, tapping ash against the tray.

"What catch?"

Killian moved past the drama with Lex. Gavin didn't need to be involved in their relationship any more than he already was.

"You tell me." he stated bluntly. "From what I've experienced, every time Rocket does something nice, there's a catch."

You gave an inch, and Rocket took a mile. Killian's used to the tactic. Normally, he's the one doing the taking. Felt strange to have the positions shifted around.

Cillian Quinn

He doesn't laugh or scoff. He nods, somber.

He understood the feeling. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop — it's why when Walsh had threatened him, Gavin had almost felt relieved. Fear was a language in which they'd made him fluent.

"What have we done that you expect has a catch?"

He cants his head.