The woman who refused to stand for anything less than immaculate sashayed down the grim looking hallways of the W.O.I.I headquarters. Her lips dawn in an endless frown and eyes permanently narrowed. She was on a beeline to the main experimental labs.

Miss Fisher had just dropped off her new team of kindergarteners at the shooting range, passing the baton onto Miss Sophie. She'd expected raising these teenagers to be a treacherous task from the beginning, however, she knew her hypothesis would continue to be challenged. They could easily make her life a living hell-- given that they were being trained to be hazardous. And quite currently, none of them were so fond of her.

Frankly, she'd thought that their reactions to the bomb were rather mild. Sure, all five of them were raging infernos hotter than the surface of the sun, but they were not manic animals. And they mixed together better than she could have dreamed. There were hitches, and inevitably little squabbles. But they had the potential to be everything an agent team was.

The experimental lab was always encased in soft chatter and occasionally raised cheers or the hiss of fire extinguishers. There was always wonders behind the door of those labs. Anything worth drooling over was invented in that lab. And she was soughing out information about one of the organizations latest breakthrough in the entire world of biological creation.

Swinging the heavy metal door open, heavy like all other doors in this fortress, Miss Fisher made her entrance. Yet, no one really noticed. The labs were always consumed in a busy hum and throngs of scientists who were far too engrossed with their experiments to care. She didn't plan to be here for long anyways.

"Amanda?" A male voice caught her attention and she averted her grey eyes to one of her old colleagues, from when she was an active agent herself. She harrumphed.

"It's Miss Fisher." The woman chided. She'd been entrusted to remain business like.

"Oh, yes. Well, Miss Fisher, why is it you're here?" He asked her politely and she straightened her posture, as if it were possible.

"Is Brock here? I'm meeting with him regarding Team XXA, my new rookie project." She replied, discreetly craning her neck to see if she could spot the boy amongst the chaos herself.

"You mean the prodigy intern? The one working on-"

"Yes, him. Is he here?" She cut the scientist off, knowing her tight schedule didn't allow for extended conversation.

"Last I saw he was over by the incubators."

Miss Fisher didn't bother to thank him after getting her answer. Alternatively, she clicked her stilettos across the granite tiles towards the incubators. Complicated machines that loomed a few feet taller than her. She understood the mechanics of a gun far better.

Just as she had been told, there stood a dark haired intern at the colossal egg-shaped contraptions. He had a clip board resting passively in his hands, gaze lingering on a dark green egg. It was speckled with somber colors and as smooth as glass. Miss Fisher caught sight of it and smiled.

"How are the eggs coming?" She asked once within hearing range. Brock jerked in shock, he hadn't been expectant of her visit. And was quite perplexed as to how she managed to be so quiet in those rattletrap shoes.

"We have got one. We're still measuring the chemicals for the next. This one is for Iris Airisu." Brock informed her, cautious with his choice of words. He understood she was a hard woman to please.

"It's coming along, I suppose. But I have heard it's a slow process. Let me know when the next egg is ready, my team is in need of their partners." She let him off easy. But, Miss Fisher knew not to rush tedious work.

"Of course. Dawn Berlitz's partner is due to be ready in days to come. And you plan to give the rookies their eggs before they hatch?" The intern quizzed, rather skeptical of giving such troublesome misfits the ability to nurture his beloved test-tube creatures. He'd heard stories. They were adrenaline junkies, and possibly they'd find thrill in tormenting his invention.

"Yes, I thought it would be appropriate for them to watch their life-long partner hatch from it's egg. Maybe they'll learn to cherish the gift of life a little more. They abuse it far too much, putting their own in danger for pleasure." She explained. It was what Brock was afraid of.

"Let's hope they have gentle hands." He grumbled, not particularly intending Miss Fisher to hear. But she heard everything.

"Don't worry yourself, they're as soft as butter. I need to toughen them up." She replied in a tone almost equivalent to a rasp. She had acquired all the information she'd come for and was about to turn and continue with her busy schedule but curiosity stopped her. "Say, Brock, what are you calling these beasts of yours?"

"Pokemon"