"Okay." Howard scribbled something on a spreadsheet, before standing. "One moment."

The archaeologist left his desk, which was covered in maps, charts, spreadsheets, and a slew of other papers that were needed to run a ring like this. While they were relatively cramped together, they were still readable.

Taking two mugs with Aerodactyls drawn on the front from a shelf, Howard set them on the counter. It was fortunate that Zev had asked for black coffee. Even Howard couldn't mess that up. If the Beast had ordered a frappuchino with a caramel twist with half foam and a dusting of chocolate shavings, Howard would've just asked the Beast to snap his neck. Quicker than dying of embarrassment.

With a clink of the coffee maker, Howard poured the beverages and poured some creamer into his own. The archaeologist could feel eyes drilling into his neck. Was Zev looking at him? Did it even matter? His presence alone made Howard jittery. He walked over and offered Zev the mug.

"Black." Howard said. Like our souls. "It's not luxury brand, though."

---

Zev Harcourt
Canon Connections

"Not secure enough. You're familiar with the break-in at that ramen store we own three blocks over? The hair salon a block away? Too many breaches." Howard said as he sipped his creamer with just a splash of coffee for the caffeine. "It's too hot here, so I'm having the boys clean house. Here, let me show you."

Leaving the desk, Howard showed Zev to a wall of shelves that made up one part of the room. The shelves were packed with artifacts and other items that were labeled with various notes, ordering sells, buys, and transports. Almost every single one had been scribbled over to read transport or sell.

Zev didn't seem like the type of person to appreciate funeral urns belonging to an old Paldean royal family, or funeral urns belonging to an Almian high priest. Nobody that drank black coffee enjoyed anything. Howard was showing the process for the simple purpose of covering his ass. If things went down, he was going to make sure that Zev got the full package. If that included dressing up in a tour outfit, then so be it.

"We're selling what we can tonight and tomorrow, and shipping the rest of it to two safe houses in Lilycove and Dewford. What we can't fit, I'll stash at my apartment." Howard shrugged. He had almost mentioned that he lived in Rustboro, not that it mattered. If Zev wanted to know, he would know. Zev Harcourt got what he wanted. "I'd like to keep ahead of the League's trail, for once. We run a tight ship here, but we can't protect ourselves from the failures of other houses."

Failures, huh.

Like his own?

---

Zev Harcourt
Canon Connections

Howard was no 'sir', but frankly, that was the least of their worries. His ego trip could wait until Team Rocket could pay his bail. Which, likely, wouldn't be very soon. If the police took this safehouse, Team Rocket would not be on their knees in an attempt to get him back. They'd likely just shrug and pick another underpaid archaeologist to put in charge.

If they lost this base, they'd lose a lot of money. They'd lose a lot of men, and they'd lose a lot of talented hands. It didn't matter how replaceable one's talent was, it was their loyalty that was hard to replace. It was like a bonsai tree, grown carefully, pruned gently, and treated with utmost caution.

"Of course. Tell them he's in the middle of a phone call, and will be out shortly." Howard said as he drank his coffee. Silently, he was screaming internally. Shit, he didn't do particularly well under pressure. "There's your answer." Howard gestured towards the door that the grunt had went through to communicate with the cops.

Sip. Howard whistled and pointed at grunts, then boxes, then the back door. "You. You. Check if we're surrounded, or if this is just a random inspection. Go." Howard said, before folding up charts, maps, and ledgers in an almost leisurely way. He seemed almost confident.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Howard thought to himself as turned to Zev. "Apologies, sir. This is unacceptable. You should leave once the coast is clear. You are far more valuable than me."

Unless...?

---

Zev Harcourt
Canon Connections

"W-wait a second. Sir. Zev." Howard's voice went through a dozen different tones in the matter of seconds. Confusion, fear, desperation, questioning, realization, confusion again, and then horror. He elected to leave out several of those emotions and tones, given they could only be vocalized through confused screaming. "You can't be..." Zev left the room. "Serious...?"

Howard stood in the room for a few moments. No, that sort of thing only happened in the movies. Zev clearly just wanted to move all the valuables onto tarps for easy transport. He was buying them time! Yeah, that was it. He wasn't going to... There was no way he would...

Could Howard stop pretending now?

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck..." Howard's head hit the table with a dull thump. After a second, he looked up at the remaining grunts. "Move the tables out of the way. Take the tarps off those crates we have, Spread them out. Go get that twentieth century Galarian rug, and... "

No, he couldn't use something like that.

"Fulfill his orders." Howard said heavily, expression weary. It would return to a neutral expression when Zev returned. Tables were pushed aside, tarps and carpets were rolled out. They didn't have many, so hopefully this would be enough.

"We're ready, sir." A grunt shouted out. Howard nodded in response, and awaited Team Rocket's mad dog.

---

Zev Harcourt
Canon Connections

As the policemen entered the backroom, Howard immediately stood up, and prepared to shout. They had seen him. Zev had let them see their operations, their faces, their system. What was this man planning? Such a delusional ruse only lasted for a few moments, before Howard dropped all hints of ignorance. He knew. He had known from the moment Zev had left the room. No, he knew from before that.

He had desperately wanted to believe that the stories were mythology. Stories exaggerated for the purpose of retelling. Stories morphed over countless retellings by countless people until they barely resembled the original.

Such a thing could not exist. Such an idealized version of Zev Harcourt could not exist. As the crystals jutted out of Zev's hands like javelins, Howard knew that this man was truly a monster from the stories, a nameless monster in the dark. He was the monster that lurked in the other half of Howard's vision, where he could not see. The nameless beast that stole harvests. The monster under the covers.

If this was what lurked in the sight that Howard's missing eye once filled, then Howard was glad to be rid of it.

Splatter. Howard's face flecked with blood from the dying officers' mouths.

"Ah." Howard touched his face. It was warm. "I see."

The next few moments were a blur. All he remembered was choking down bile and trying not to cry. He couldn't weep from under the eyepatch, given his eye had been replaced with something else. He would not vomit. He would not vomit. He grabbed a nearby trash can and retched into it. He would never defecate on his artifacts.

After what felt like an eternity, it was over. It was over, but it would never be over.

He'd remember this moment forever. Damn him. Damn mint frost, damn every single person who had ever gotten him here. This wasn't what he signed up for. He had just wanted to make rent. To be able to afford basic living while following his passion. Where had it gone wrong?

Howard stood up. "Put them in boxes, and take them out of town. Burn them." Howard said dreamily, before snapping alert. "This is not over. We're clearing everything out. If it's valuable, it's not staying here. We have a few hours. Chop to it. You..." Howard turned to the grunt who vomited, eye angry, before softening. "Get the people we left outside, then burn the rug."

The grunts, awestruck, did as they were told. The grunt who vomited quickly left the room, glad to be free of Zev.

"What was that?" Howard hissed as he turned away from Zev. The archaeologist's face was pale and gaunt, like a skull they were shipping off. "What was that!?Are guns too good for you? You freaked out my staff, and you ruined the rug!"

---

Zev Harcourt
Canon Connections