Bill is working at his computer when the knock comes at his door. Not exactly inclined to step away at the moment, he calls out.

"Doors open, come on in!"

A moment later, there's someone standing at his side. Glancing over, the Pokemon Collector has to do a double take when he registers the Team Rocket red and black that the pink-haired kid is wearing. Blinking owlishly, he turns to really get a good look at him.

"… Are you Bill?"

His first impression is that this kid is the quiet type. But that doesn't necessarily make him slow, or stupid. In fact, Bill himself had always been an introvert, and when he was first growing up, he'd avoided other people his age. They were all so… dumb. They called him quiet and 'slow' as well, and only with time and age and collaborations with men of science who were of similar intellect of him had Bill developed into the confident man he was today.

"Yeah, I'm bill all right. And you're Team Rocket. What do you want?"

The silent, magenta-haired Grunt holds out a letter to Bill, along with a package. Bill raises an eyebrow and takes both, setting the package down on his desk and opening the letter to begin speed-reading.

"That's how it is, huh? Yeah, sorry, but I'm not interested. I've got my research to attend to, you see? I'm not about to drop everything and be Giovanni's little tech boy consultant again."

His kneejerk reaction prompts a dead-eyed, silent look from the kid. It's like the Rocket Grunt is staring into his very soul. Honestly, he sees a bit of himself in the younger man. In the end, when the Grunt doesn't move a muscle, Bill lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes.

"All right, what's this about? What's the job?"

Even as he asks, he's actually just looking down at the letter, reading a bit more closely and a lot slower to pick up the actual details amidst all of the fluff and pomp that Giovanni had stuffed the whole thing with. Honestly, why did the older man have to be so… theatrical, all the time?

"Porygon, is it? Should have known."

"… Can you make them?"

Blinking, Bill looks up at the Grunt, a little surprised.

"Hm? Yeah, of course I know how to make the things! Who do you take me for?"

Letting out another sigh, Bill rolls his eyes and sets aside the letter, picking up the package instead.

"Ugh, let's just see what they're trying to tempt me with here."

Opening it, Bill immediately finds reason to grumble.

"Damn it all, Giovanni. Why the hell do you keep treating me like I'm some amateur collector?! A shiny Magikarp? Really?"

Shuffling things around, he looks a little deeper, but sees no reason to change his tune. This shit… it might excite some plebian, but it was nothing to someone like him.

"Some Rare Candies… how wonderful. A ticket to some 'exclusive' part on the S.S. Anne. Great, whoopdee fuckin' doo. I've got all the connections to the rich and famous I could ever need, and alcohol only dulls my mind. Is he even trying?"

Despite his griping, Bill continues on, until his brow raises.

"Okay, here comes the actual interesting part."

Almost as though Giovanni knew he was making a mess of things, there's a second letter slipped in under all the junk. Flipping it open, Bill reads this one carefully from the get-go.

"As thanks for your cooperation, blah-blah-blah, we'll offer you a salary of… okay, that's at least somewhat respectable."

Not bad at all, in fact. However…

"Giovanni knows I could make this much working for Silph, right? Sheesh."

Bill says that, but to be fair… he wouldn't be caught dead working for those corporate suits, and Giovanni knows THAT much too. Still…

This entire time, the Rocket Grunt has been standing next to him, waiting in silence. It's honestly a little eerie. Turning back to him, Bill peers at Giovanni's messenger a little closer. While the Rocket is what he appears to be, a simple no-name Grunt… there's more than just meets the eye as well. Most Rocket Grunts have, on average, anywhere from one to three Pokemon. That's it.

This one though? He's already got six fricking Pokeballs on his belt. Now, Bill might not know what's in them, but that in and of itself is pretty intriguing. Just who is this guy, that Giovanni would be willing to send him? Bill isn't out of touch. He's definitely not 'out of the loop'. No, he knows things, and he knows what sort of people Giovanni has working for him. The people that matter, that is. Ariana, obviously. Archer, duh. Proton. Even that loser Petrel.

But… he doesn't know this guy. He's never seen him before in his life.

Narrowing his eyes, Bill realizes he's let the silence lapse a little too long. And yet, the pink-haired Rocket still hasn't spoken up. He's really good at this whole thing, isn't he?

"… Here's what you've got to know about me, pal. I only care about two things in life: Science and rare Pokemon."

He pauses briefly, before continuing on.

"That's it. Those are my Alpha and Omega, you hear me? Money, power, status, politics… none of it means anything to me. Zilch. Nada. Do you see where I'm coming from?"

To his surprise, the Rocket Grunt finally speaks, giving a single, solitary nod.

"Yes."

And Bill gets the feeling… that the Grunt actually does understand, at least a little. It's strange, but he feels this weird kinship with this kid.

"… Look, if I take the job, you tell Giovanni it'll be on following conditions: First, Team Rocket is to send me regular samples of the rarest Pokemon they get their hands on. Second, since I know you guys have spies in Silph Co., I want you to give me any and all intel you can collect on their newest invention. Silph is apparently on the brink of some newfangled capture device, and if its as big as people are whispering, I can hardly afford to be out of the loop."

He pauses and lifts an eyebrow.

"Well, did you get all that?"

When the Rocket Grunt nods, Bill smirks.

"Good. Because those are my terms. Giovanni can take em or leave em… though obviously, they're subject to change at any point if I need something else. Now go on. Get. Go tell your superiors my conditions. I've got work to do."

The Rocket nods again and turns to go. Bill is just about to let him, but as he glances back into the box of so-called 'goodies', something takes ahold of him. His gut instinct tells him he'd be a fool, letting that kid walk out of his house without forging a more… personal connection.

"Hey, kid, tell you what."

Stopping, the pink-haired Grunt turns back around.

"You got a name?"

"… Cam."

Nodding, Bill walks closer.

"I admire your persistence, Cam. You didn't throw a tantrum like some Rocket Grunts might have. You didn't make any threats, or even storm off in a huff when it seemed like I wasn't going to be game. As much as it pains me to admit he did anything right… Giovanni sent the right guy for the job."

Reaching into his back pocket, the Pokemon Collector pulls out an extra burner device.

"I want you to have something."

Handing over the burner phone, he watches as Cam takes it and puts it in his own pocket without a second of hesitation. He liked that. He liked a man of conviction.

"I want you to be my Team Rocket contact from now on, Cam. And yes, this is a third and final condition for my taking the Porygon job, but it'll be just between the two of us. No need to let your superiors know about this one. What I just gave you is called a Cell Phone. You keep that on you at all times, and when it rings, it means I'm calling, so you pick up and answer. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Splendid."

Bill is just about ready to walk away and leave Cam to his dastardly deeds and criminal activity, but before he does so, a thought strikes him, and he turns back to the Rocket Grunt.

"In fact, there's one Pokemon that I've long been on the lookout for… one that I think you guys might be able to help me locate. Tell me, Cam… are you at all familiar with the Mewtwo Project?"

"… No."

There's a beat, barely even half a moment, when Bill thinks he sees a flash of recognition in Cam's eyes. But it has to be a trick of the light, right? There's no way someone like Cam would know anything about that. No matter how special of a Grunt he might be, he's still just a grunt.

"Heh, I'm not surprised. Giovanni's not one to reveal his secrets to people so soon. I suppose it's reasonable that you wouldn't know anything. Never mind then… forget about it."

With a wave of his hand, he goes back to his computer and dismisses Cam from his presence. The sound of his door opening and closing behind him lets Bill know the Rocket Grunt is gone, and a quick glance back a few seconds later confirms it.

"… Huh, odd kid."

Bill just shrugs, before getting back to work. Honestly, helping Giovanni and Team Rocket would take up barely any of his time at all, if he was being frank. And as long-term investments went, it just might pay big on the returns…

-x-X-x-

Blue was a Pokemon Trainer. He was NOT 'just some kid'. He was not 'an annoying brat'. And he definitely wasn't 'a little twerp'! Adult trainers had called him all of these things and more since the eleven year old had left Pallet Town behind and begun his journey to become the very best, take the Kanto Region by storm, and make his grandpa proud at long last.

But they were just jealous, and Blue knew it. He was an officially licensed Pokemon Trainer, and not only that, he even had the Boulder Badge already! Though, the Gym Leader of the Pewter City Gym, Brock, had seemed a little disgruntled as he handed it over. Like he thought it wasn't 'fair' or something that Blue had a Squirtle that knew Bubble and could easily take down every single one of Brock's Pokemon in one or two easy hits.

Hah! Like anything was supposed to be FAIR, when it came to Pokemon. Blue wasn't an idiot. You took every advantage you could get; it was just that simple. So yeah, he'd planned ahead, very aware that Brock would be his first real challenge. He'd considered Bulbasaur for a split second, but ultimately Squirtle was where it was at.

And he'd had no reason to regret his choice either. In Mt. Moon, when he'd gone up against all those Team Rocket characters, his Squirtle had even evolved into a Wartortle! And one day, it would be a Blastoise. He was excited, to say the least.

But for now, he was going to see the Pokemon Collector Bill. Except, as he made his way up to the top of Nugget Bridge, having beaten all the challengers that lined it, he found himself running into another one of those Rocket goons, this one with pink hair and an almost familiar look in his dead, blank eyes.

"Heh, what's this? More Rockets? I thought I got all of you back in Mt. Moon!"

Grinning wickedly, Blue reaches down and grabs his Wartortle's Pokeball from his belt.

"Oh well… I suppose another lesson is in order! Go, Pidgey!"

Obviously, he wasn't going to start with his strongest Pokemon. His Wartortle was impressive, but Blue knew the real secret to making a strong Pokemon Team, was to give all of his Pokemon a chance to fight equally and grow in strength TOGETHER. And he needed a strong Pokemon Team, if he was going to finally show his grandpa he was worth his time, once and for all. He-

"Go, Dragonair."

"Huh?"

Blue doesn't even realize his reaction is audible at first, as the eleven year old's neck cranes back to stare at the massive serpentine Dragon Type suddenly sharing the bridge with him and his Pidgey.

… Needless to say, the fight is over almost immediately, but that just pisses Blue off.

"D-Damn it! Rattata, I choose you!"

"Dragonair, Slam."

"A-Abra, go!"

"Dragonair, Twister"

"Wartortle, come on out! WATER GUN!"

As the water attack impacts the Dragonair, Blue feels a surge of hope as he gets off his first move, to his mild shock and amazement. Then… then he realizes the Rocket Grunt LET him go first and sees a flash of something in the pink-haired guy's eyes from under his black hat.

"Dragonair. Slam."

And like that, it's over. Only as Blue is calling back the last of his completely defeated team does he notice… this Rocket, unlike those he faced in Mt. Moon, has SIX Pokeballs on his belt. A full team? Seriously? Maybe… ugh, maybe he was in over his head from the start. Blue sniffles and wipes his face quickly with the back of his hand.

"It's not… it's not fair. First her and now you? Do I just not have the right P-Pokemon, or something? N-No… that can't be! I just… I just have to train harder!"

As his loss ignites a fire in Blue's soul, he grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists.

"I-I need to get better! Stronger! Darn it all… I'm still not good enough!"

But… he couldn't hang around here. Well aware that Rockets were known for stealing Pokemon from little kids like… well, like him, Blue pushes past the Grunt before he can demand one of his Pokemon, rushing away as fast as his legs will carry him. To his mild surprise, the pink-haired Rocket lets him go. So quiet, so strong… he reminded Blue of her.

All his life, Blue has lived in HER shadow. His neighbor, Red. She's half again his age at eighteen, but grandpa always said she needed extra special care, and that was why she only left on HER Pokemon Journey when Blue finally did. Blue didn't really know about all that, but what he DID know was that his grandpa had always paid more attention to Red than him. All Blue's life, it had been Red this or Red that.

Despite their age difference, it was always Red that Blue found himself compared to. Almost like Professor Oak couldn't possibly care about anyone else as much as he cared about Blue's neighbor. But… Blue never quite understood why. Why wasn't he good enough for his grandpa? Why couldn't he just be enough for the Pokemon Professor?

He just needed to keep forging on ahead. If he helped his grandfather complete the Pokedex, if he showed his grandpa how dedicated he was to making the very best Pokemon Team, then maybe he would finally have his attention. And maybe, one day… he would finally show that b-bitch what for, and put her in her place…

One day, he would beat Red. One day.