"Mmmmi'mcoming!" Howard yawned as he shuffled down the hallway in his sweater, robe, and Aerodactyl slippers. He had taken the time to fly across Hoenn from Sootopolis to Rustboro. Though now, he did it in moderate comfort. He wasn't traveling by bus anymore.

That was a good thing, in his eyes.

He had spent his time home relaxing, sleeping, catching up on Archaeology Annually, given the 2024 edition still needed to be written. It was important that he balance his life in Rocket and in public very carefully. It wouldn't do if the League learned about a new Admin, and Howard suddenly vanished from public life.

Howard would've said that an archaeologist being in Rocket was obscene, but Remiel and Cillian disagreed.

Shaking them aside, Howard's softly cushioned feet shuffled towards the door. Grigori Sokolov had smashed it down, and it still wasn't replaced. It didn't help that Grigori still hadn't paid to replace it yet. It also didn't help that Grigori was mad at him. Luckily, he was still kicking that can down the ro-

He opened the door. He stared at June for a moment, recognition dawning in Howard's eye.

Slam! The door slammed shut in June's face. A muffled 'fuuuuuuuuuuuck' echoed from behind the door.

---

june sleigh

As the door squeaked open, June’s face lit up in relief. “Oh thank Arceus you’re–”

Hardwood bopped June’s nose lightly, and it shut right back into her face. A muffled groan-slash-scream echoed from behind it, little more than noise in her ears. While Howard bemoaned the can that bounced into the road and got ran over, June had another thought.

“--here.” What the fuck?

Cheapskate finally didn’t want to pay or something? She needed a week-long sleep and a proper dinner, not… this. If the fucker didn’t want to pay, then why the fuck did he order something from her? Fucking hell, she could’ve been in bed by now. A warm, comfortable bed with Matchstick cuddled up by her side.

Instead, she half-stood-half-slept against a door frame with a box in her hands and a lead ball in her stomach. Cold, mentally checked out, and read to just drop the damn thing and let someone steal it from the guy.

Fuck. She couldn’t do that. Not because it was Howard, but because that’d tank her online rating. Her business would be irreversibly fucked, and all because some guy got cold feet as soon as he opened the door. June knocked again, much gentler this time.

“Howard, please, I just wanna drop this off and go home. You can even tell me about its history, if you let me sleep on the couch or something. Just…” She trailed off as a headache formed. She shut her eyes tight and knocked one last time.

“Come get your shit.”

---

howard slayte

Howard very much wanted to get his shit. The issue is that there was a massive chasm of trauma between him and the delivered funeral urns in June's hands.

There was also a door, the threat of Grigori looming over him, his secret identity as a member of Team Rocket, nerve-wracking guilt, fear, and a case of mild indigestion. All of these things were folding together into a great piece of origami that made Howard not want to open the door. Doing so would be meeting the consequences of his actions. It would be reaping what he sowed, and sowing a massive Golurk cannonball to the face did not grow into anything worth reaping.

It grew into a sleepless night. Several, by Howard's count. And crying. Lots of crying.

June could leave. She could leave right now, if she knew that Howard had zero clue how to leave a one star review. She'd leave if she knew that she could kick his artifacts off a cliff, safe in the knowledge that Howard would still leave a good rating, even if she burned down his apartment.

Alas, she didn't know.

There was only one thing to do.

Crreaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak... The door slowly shuddered open. Howard's single eye peeked out, staring at June with trepidation.

"H-hey, June... Long time no see." The door creaked open slightly more. "You look... well."

A lie. She looked terrible. Worse than when Howard had shot her with a cannonball. The guilt was crawling up again. Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit. Why did he have to feel guilty about this? It was eating him up. It was like Grigori was on his shoulder, whispering into his ear.

"...come in." The door opened wider.

---

june sleigh

June pushed right through Howard without a second glance. Her eyes were locked onto the table, and she shambled over to throw the package on. Harder than Howard might’ve liked, but the medium-sized box found its way into his apartment with minimal to no damage.

Job done. Thank fuck.

“There,” she leaned against the table heavily, “your… whatever the hell it is.”

Howard’s strong feelings of guilt and horrific anticipation were as one-sided as he predicted. The delivery girl he had ruthlessly attacked on the disappeared island did not ask about his careful steps, nor his weird look. While the archeologist stepped on metaphorical eggshells, she sat clueless and unaware.

And half-dead. That helped immeasurably.

Her black sling backpack slid off her shoulder and right in front of her. It nearly went onto the floor, but she barely managed to keep her grip and she unzipped and unearthed the all-mighty clipboard. Finally, she replaced it on the table with her energy drink. The can rose to her lips and did not come back down until all its contents flowed down her throat and on the sides of her lips.

“You know the drill,” She wiped away the excess sticky liquid from her face. June pressed the can between her arms, which shook violently as she pressed harder and harder. Once the can started to give, it crumpled in one fell swoop.

“Sign the thing. Show it off so we can make a joke about our first delivery. You ramble about it for a couple minutes. I call you a nerd. We go our merry way,” she yawned. Even as her stomach grumbled and protested the additional toxic sludge added to its contents, June pulled out her final can of Tauros-Energy. The previous one topped off the table and onto the floor.

“Long time no see, by the way.”

---

howard slayte

"Yeah, sorry. I've been busy with..." War crimes? Blowing you out of the sky? Getting beat up by your uncle? Getting promoted for a terrorist group? "...work." Howard finally said. A good excuse. A nice catch-all that wasn't technically a lie. He was working, even if that work didn't involve shooting June out of the sky.

Stop. Howard thought to himself. These are dangerous thoughts. Let go.

Yet why did it feel like Grigori was in the corner, frowning? Chastising him? Judging him?

"It's nothing special." Howard signed with an Aerodactyl pen and returned the signature to the delivery girl. He didn't know what she even did with all the signatures, since she did illegal deliveries. "Just some Draconid star charts. Nothing too insane."

Even as he spoke, he felt dirty. Why was that? He was in the clear. She didn't know it was him, and Grigori couldn't do anything to his direct superior. Any normal person would say this coming up Howard. Shred would tell him to simply take it in stride and move forward.

Then he figured it out. She looked like shit, just like when he shot her out of the sky. Howard knew he was on the off foot when she threw a can onto his table, which was filled with charts and translations from Regice's ruin, and he didn't get mad. 

Instead, he wondered what happened to the energetic girl from the carnival a million months ago.

"How are you?" He needed to ask. "Are you... okay?"

---

june sleigh

June nearly burst out laughing. “Am I okay? Sherbet. Feel like a million bucks.”

A lot easier of an answer than a proper explanation. That brought forward questions that she didn’t have the energy, time, or patience to answer. She felt like collapsing onto the floor and sleeping for a week. Howard wouldn’t mind, right? Not like he cared much for the place anyway.

“Guess I’ve been the same though. With work. I went to that stupid island a few months back– I’m sure you’ve heard about it,” she returned the clipboard to her backpack, but it fell to the floor immediately. Her arm barely reached as she bent over, and any further would've sent her alongside it. Whatever, it could stay there for now. 

June turned back to the archeologist with a scowl, “Got sent home with me and Matchstick in a cast, a shitty paycheck, and a warning to not pull that shit again. And, you know. The Holidays. Tis the season, or whatever,”

That island was a distant dream, yet it always came back to bite her in the ass. Not as much as the other catastrophe that happened… two years ago, now. Almost two years ago, anyway. Fuck. It’d been two years since then? Where did it go? Hell, likely.

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now. With this box here, the stupid fucking holidays are done with. They can tear down all those stupid fucking trees and lights and I can move on with my life.”

“Fuck, sorry, I’m rambling again,” she gulped down another mouthful of disgusting acid. “You finally on vacation then, too? Got anyone else to stare at your Dragonic star charts, or you gonna sit in your apartment alone and bored too?”

---

howard slayte

"I've got Shirley." The Aerodactyl yawned from her spot on the couch, almost camouflaged into the sofa. Howard scratched her head. "I was gonna drink myself into a stupor and reflect on past mistakes. It's not as flavorful as working myself to death, but..."

Howard shrugged. He was a people person, but he was fine with being alone. Maybe it was better this way, to shut himself within his work, within Team Rocket, and ensure that another accident like the one with June never happened again.

Hadn't he promised to see the truth of the world? His purpose was to observe time flying by. He was an observer. Maybe Grigori was wrong, and it was best to disconnect himself from everything.

He could let go.

"I was at the island. The League had me there as a consultant." It bothered Howard how easily the lies came. The guilt was crawling through him. "At least you weren't there as a Rocket. I heard they were pushed off the island. You could've died."

His hand clenched.

"I'm glad you're not."

He looked up. He gave her an odd look. He heard Grigori's voice rasping in his ear. He quietly pushed it aside. He quietly buried the guilt. It could disappear for a moment.

"You look like shit. Sit down and take a breather." He stood up and squeezed past her. "I got this cool tea set from Kitakami. Makes everything taste a thousand times better. You'll take a moment if you want your tip."

---

june sleigh

Those impossibly emotional eyes flashed through her mind. For a brief moment, Howard regained his second eye, and they stared right into her soul. June was back on that Arceus-forsaken-fucking island. She blinked hard, and they disappeared. Her whole body shuddered violently, and her face turned the color of the snow outside.

”Sure, yea, I’ll stay. Yea,” she slowly shuffled around the table and into the nearest available seat. Sleep sounded like a stupid idea anyway. Even better if it tasted somewhat decent. Not that it would be; the prospect of Howard refreshments sounded like the cheapest grounds or tea in the store. It just needed to be better than her garbage.

“But, uh, no tip. And don’t word it like that,” June leaned back in the hard chair. Better than Knight’s hard body, but her back protested all the same. She hunched over the table instead.

“So… um. The weather. Pretty awful. For some reason. And... uh. I guess I'm excited to drink something warm for a change. What makes these cups speacialer than other ones anyway?”

---

howard slayte

"Shut up." Howard rolled his eye about the tip. "Get your mind out of the trash."

Peeking around in his kitchen, his eye sparkled when he found the tea set that Hyakkaryōran Tsubaki had given him as a gift. It was a gorgeous piece of dishware, and it was the nicest thing Howard owned that he reserved for personal use. He surrounded himself in spectacular objects, but he didn't partake in them personally. He simply appreciated them.

These teacups were adored for their human element. Howard loved the set because the set had been loved by another. That was enough.

"I almost got frostbite from the snow, digging up a Cranidos's femur. It's pretty bad. Yeah." Arceus, the weather? They were talking about the weather? Hundreds of miles away, Grigori was throwing himself off a cliff. "You need to detox. Tauros-Energy is bad for the soul. The kidneys too, I think."

Clink. He put the cups down, and pulled out some imported tea that Chu-e Choi had, unbeknownst to Howard, given him as a gift. He had gotten these from Galar, and they were worth their weight in gold. If the ex-Underboss knew that Howard was using it on someone who chugged energy drinks, he'd likely throw a fit.

Good.

"They're from a friend." Howard said simply. "A friend who vomited in my hat. Don't ask for matcha, you can't have any."

He sat in his recliner after putting the tray down. The tray was put on top of several charts of Hoenn. The archaeologist took the cup and cradled it.

"Hopefully this passes the high standards of Tauros-Energy." Howard rolled his eye again. "Unbelievable."

---

june sleigh

“Hey, they were having a sale,” June grunted. “Besides, it was either that or the cans of coffee, and those suck because it’s tastes more like aluminum than coffee. And I got the sugar-free ones.”

Energy drinks were not kind on the kidneys. Or to the body. She shrugged and pick up the tea cup very carefully. It was only concentrated within the last couple weeks. That shouldn’t be long enough to cause any long term health problems, right? Meanwhile, it felt like her life depended on the delicacy that which she held this cup.

But… the tea tasted good enough. A marked improvement above anything she could’ve expected. Must’ve been a gift from a friend, then. “The Tauros-Energy bar is buried in the lawn, but this clears it better than I expected. Tell your friend that they should get you this more often.”

“Unless the friend that vomited in your hat is the same one that got you all this,” she put the cup back down with the delicacy expected for a baby. Why the hell did people make shit like this? It would break if someone looked at it funny, and her eyes were the clowns of eyes. Or something.

Mental note: keep that one locked up.

“So… uh. That one delivery for Yuina Higashi went pretty smooth…” She grasped for the last hope for a conversation topic. “She seemed happy with all the shit you gave her.”

---

howard slayte

"Did she?" Howard's eye sparkled. "That's good! I quite like her. We've worked together a bit in the past regarding this bear, but that's neither here nor bear." Howard blinked. "There. What'd she say about the package? She didn't mention me, did she?"

He glanced at June anxiously. Discussing Hisui with Yuina Higashi was a luxury, given everyone else he spoke with was either a terrorist or deranged. There was a simple joy in talking to someone without being at threat for being arrested or shot.

Yet even around the skittish subject of Yuina and Howard's band of merry, murderous historians, it wasn't enough to save June from Howard's gaze.

"No idea where the tea leaves come from. People leave them at my office wrapped in ribbons and flowers."

When he envisioned the box the leaves had come in, all Howard could think of was June's body in a coffin, and Grigori standing alone in a cemetery. He had to approach this. He didn't know how, though. He could delve through dozens of contradictory papers, but he couldn't do this.

He approached it cautiously, like a man poking an Aerodactyl with a stick.

"Tell me about the island."

---

june sleigh

“Oh, she thought you were just the best thing in the world. I think,” June thought back to that brief and far away encounter. About how Yuina defended Howard rather nobly and kindly. How annoying it was. Oh well. Not like it mattered. She just didn’t know the kind of relationship they had. Jokes about the others' incompetence were par for the course.

Or, at least, the relationship June thought they had.

Howard thought differently. It was the only realistic explanation as to why in the ever living fuck he brought up that stupid island. She groaned and resisted the urge to smack the table. Last thing she wanted was to break this stupidly fragile tea set. He’d probably kill her.

“What about the island, Howard,” she said, head heavy in her palm. “It sucked. My bosses hated my guts for essentially being a civilian. My teammates ranged so far in personality so that it was hard to connect. Rocket tried to kill me numerous times. What’s new.”

June shut her eyes tight to fight off the incoming headache. “Oh… there was also this really weird person. Helped me after a fall. Was all high and mighty, but did some really weird shit as they flew off on a Golurk. They… knew my name, I guess? Not sure how. Really weird.”

In all the chaos of recovery and going back to work she’d nearly forgotten about that. Such a small yet important detail of that encounter. It single-handedly brought that event from an eyebrow raiser into a brain-teaser. Something she’d pondered a month or two ago but got nowhere with. Better to try and forget it, lest it took over every aspect of her life.

Bigger problems in the world.

“You were there, weren’t you? You should know how it went, if you paid any attention,” she carefully took another sip from the ornate cup. Tea from a stranger to cap off a conversation about a stranger. There was an irony here, or some punchline.

---

howard slayte

"I am the best thing in the world." Howard said modestly, before grimacing slightly. "In my field, anyways. When it comes to archaeology, I'm second to none."

True, but June had also seen Howard get dragged out of a carnival, lose a game of bumper cars, and get scared of having to pay his bills. The man was a wreck that somehow kept it together through outward flair and a copious amount of caffeine. In that sense, Howard Slayte and June Sleigh were the same.

Were they both broken in the same way, as well?

"I was busy fighting a weapon meant to kill a god. Then, I watched as that weapon was shattered and spirited away by men in masks. Who knows who has it now? The League could have it, or Rocket could have it. Pray that you never have to see it. Ever."

Oh, he'd make sure of that. June Sleigh would never see Regice. He wouldn't allow it. Rocket wouldn't touch her for as long as he held his seat as Rocket Admin. Only then could he redeem himself for what he had done to her. Only then could he make amends with Grigori Sokolov.

Only th-

He choked on his tea when she mentioned the masked man and Golurk.

"What...?" He looked up at her. His face flashed with emotions. He struggled to tamp them down. This was fine. He could simply say it was due to the shock being attacked. He had nothing to do with this. He was innocent. He was innocent.

Then why did he feel guilty?

"How strange. How terrible! Are you okay?" The assailant tried to look concerned, despite his scalding throat and burning mouth and raging guilt.

---

june sleigh