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There's a knock at the door and Emma's cozy tuck in a small loveseat in the living room is disrupted. Unease pumps in her veins as she shifts in her seat, her eyes looking up from the compelling novel she's borrowed from Gavin to peer down the hallway that leads to the front door. She can see the shadow of a person standing on the other side.[break][break]

She closes the book slowly, peeling the blanket off of her lap and getting to her feet slowly, like a cat slinking around the corner with its fur on end.[break][break]

"Were you expecting anyone?"[break][break]

No immediate answer invites her to investigate for herself, and she makes her way to the door. But when she sees the shape become distinguishable behind the warped glass frame she finds herself missing the doorknob as she reaches to open the door. The fumble brings her back to reality and she peels the door open abruptly because taking it slow didn't seem right either.[break][break]

"Marcel?"[break][break]

Her eyes find the case of beer clinking at his side and the dossier in his hand. All of a sudden her mouth feels dry and she's unsure what else to say - she hadn't spoken to the man, one of her closest friends, in quite some time.

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Inside, the bungalow is filled with the thick scent of a homemade stew. Gavin sits at the breakfast bar with his elbow propped on the counter, lazily thumbing through a book. Every so often, he gets up to check on the stove — he's in the middle of stirring when a knock at the door causes him to freeze, grip tightening around the ladle.[break][break]

Emma asks a question, but her attention is on the front door as he mutely shakes his head.[break][break]

Turning down the heat on the stove, he slips around the island and toward the front door. He's on high alert, left hand curled around a pokeball just in case. Notably, however, his Lycanroc is nowhere to be seen.[break][break]

'Marcel?'[break][break]

Where the sight of their fellow Rocket unsettles Emma, the tension leeches from Gavin's shoulders at the familiar name. Of course — he'd given Marcel the address in case of sensitive intelligence, or in case of emergency. At this thought, his discomfort returns for an entirely different reason. Was something wrong, or...?[break][break]

"What a surprise." He steps up behind Emma, seemingly indifferent to the lack of space between them. "Come in; I hope there's no trouble?"[break][break]

He steps aside to permit access to the open living space, Emma's book the only thing occupying the spotless surfaces. Lycanroc finally shows its face, padding lazily from the bedroom and nosing at Marcel's hand in a friendly gesture. That explained its absence; it must've spotted his approach through the window.

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]his own reaction is less eloquent, though only slightly. he blinks a moment too late before tossing out a "hey." he's wary, of himself more than anything else--it was always hard to tell what emma would react to.
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"no, just dropping by." marcel gratefully shifts his attention to gavin, holding up the dossier. the beers swing slightly in his grasp. glancing over gavin's shoulder, he lets out a low whistle. "damn, merlino. sign me up for underboss if it gets me a house like this." it was the sort of modern sleekness marcel tended to avoid when looking for a place of his own, though its appeal was undeniable. it was almost enough to make him reconsider the tatami mats and sliding doors of his own home.
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almost.
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remembering the situation, he looks to the pair once more. gavin wasn't one to give out his address readily, and while marcel had known him longer, emma seemed more than comfortable in his home. familiar.
[break][break]he supposed he should be glad his two friends were getting along so well. "i can, uh, just drop this off if you want." he supposes going back to work wouldn't do any harm.
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Emma shifts her weight, hand loosening on the door handle as Gavin approaches from behind. He's close enough she can feel his warmth and she very quickly feels a twinge of discomfort. She makes this obvious by shrinking away from the both of them, stepping away from the door and avoiding contact as she slips past Gavin.[break][break]

Not long after, Gavin invites the man inside and Emma remains quiet and observant, watching the pair interact with a strong sense of familiarity. It had somehow slipped her mind that the two knew each other quite well.[break][break]

She clears her throat, however, at the awkwardness that lingers after Marcel is invited in - it seems he's hesitant to stay longer than necessary. [break][break]

"You brought drinks, don't let me stop you from hanging out."[break][break]

The woman regards Marcel with a careful stare before switching her attention to Gavin. Conscious that she's made things tense, she decides to draw away from the front door to let them talk amongst themselves without her hovering. She hated hovering.

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There is a tension in the air.[break][break]

At first attributing Emma's reaction to being caught off guard — they didn't get visitors, living on the edge of town — Gavin is suddenly aware that she is uncomfortable by the way she draws away from them. His gaze does not follow. There's no need to draw Marcel's attention to it.[break][break]

"You're not intruding on anything," Gavin assures him as he leans against the arm of the couch. He's less guarded at home, his posture lacking its usual stiffness. His accent is different, too, hints of Galarian upbringing colouring his words. "I'm just minding the stove."[break][break]

He tilts his head toward the kitchen, where Lycanroc has padded over to sniff at the air. Well-trained, it doesn't dare place its paws on the counter even though Gavin catches the canine licking its chops.[break][break]

Emma's attention is on him, and Gavin sits down on the larger couch to silently offer her the choice of sitting alone, respecting her space. She'd spooked before and he hadn't seen her for a week. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate her fight-or-flight once more.[break][break]

"The house came before the promotion," he tells Marcel, chuckling. "Promotion's been nice for the remodeling, though. Anything interesting in those files?"

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[attr="class","mthread"][attr="class","rocket"]"yeah," he throws the files down onto the counter, "your guy's an absolute pain in the ass to track." the cans follow, neatly placed. "you've got about a week's wait before he shows up again, so be ready."
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leaning back against the breakfast bar, he looks curiously again between emma and gavin. "so..." he finally says, "you always here for lunch or something?"
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judging from emma's behaviour, she was quite comfortable in this place. familiar. a glance at the stove told him gavin was definitely cooking for two. the investigator in marcel can't help but pick up on every suggestion as his gaze sweeps the room.
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The taste of cheap beer and Kalosian cake fills her mouth like an ominous reminder, and it's that reason that she draws away. It's unlike her to need to catch her breath, an odd feeling to feel so caught off guard by a person.[break][break]

And yet Marcel doesn't leave because Gavin is polite, because Emma doesn't complain. But if she had it would have been a suggestion that something was wrong - and Emma wasn't the type to allude to any conflict.[break][break]

Besides, there was nothing wrong, right?[break][break]

While Gavin takes a seat on the far couch, Emma remains standing. Her shoulder leans against a door frame while Marcel spreads out paperwork, sets down the cans. They clink together as they're lowered. [break][break]

But then the man's attention turns to her, asking a question - a forward and blunt one. [break][break]

"Just business," she lies, but the lie is clean. She doesn't look at Gavin, instead holding Marcel's gaze.[break][break]

Marcel's gaze breaks from hers, however, to survey the room. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth, a feeling of discomfort and guilt, a feeling she's never felt before.

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"Mm, that's why we wanted the best on the case."[break][break]

Though Gavin had a handle of the basics when it came to keeping tabs on someone, this guy had been out of his league. He picks up one of the files and glances over it, noting key details and nodding to the advice.[break][break]

He's about to tell Marcel the simple truth, lips parted in preparation, when Emma beats him to it — and lies.[break][break]

Thankfully, Gavin is quick to adapt.[break][break]

"We've been at the same problem for a couple weeks now," he provides. "I offered lunch to compensate for the time spent. Speaking of which, you're welcome to join us. There's more than enough."[break][break]

Cracking open a can of beer, Gavin downs half of it before setting it down on a coaster.

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