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"I'd rather not risk it," Hayes told Asch in a friendly - but firm - manner, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm sure they'll have metal detectors. Probably Jennies, and if they do they'll have Growlithe who can sniff your Zoroark out." He shrugged with a rueful half-smile, an easy sort of gesture that conveyed a measure of sympathy. "Pokemon should be enough."

Asch gave Hayes a momentary blank stare. He couldn't say he agreed with the elite, and part of him wanted to argue.. but it wasn't his place.

"Yes, sir" he said rather unenthusiastically. Hayes attempts at being friendly and sympathetic bouncing off Asch's cold exterior.

Looking to Saber, he frowned. "You heard him."

The Zoroark growled a little, but removed the sword and placed it on a bench in the hangar. It should be safe there till they got back. The Pokemon was then returned to its ball.

With that, Asch boarded the jet. This just wasn't his week.

Somewhat inspired by previous interaction with Shawn, or as she knew him, really, Shadow, Tambrey had gone with 'the disguise'. The contacts were kept in, her hair was brushed out, but a hair tie graced each wrist. She'd grabbed a pair of blue slip-on shoes, jeans, belt and a black top, with her denim jacket over it and a small-ish, shoulder slung bag, brown, over her left shoulder; in this bag she carried her spare pair of glasses in a case, rather than risk her main pair in case, for whatever reason, she needed them (the non-excuse of 'contacts' would surely suffice, she thought), a couple of pens, a book and her pokedex. Her belt carried 5 of her pokemon; Palu had been told to 'guard the room' and 'look after the room mate' while she was gone, but to be honest, the bird -never- took off that scarf and Tambrey wanted to take a pokemon with 'fly'. That pokemon happened to be Pygi, and she knew that Pygi and Palu would likely not -work- well together.

She approached the jet with a little trepidation; she was sure she wasn't late as she'd been hurrying, but now that there was a jet, the whole thing was rather real and those other missions kept irritatingly hovering around in the back of her mind.

As the jet took off and flew, Tambrey sat and tried to think- and perhaps read her book. It would certainly make the flight quicker for her, though she wasn't going to avoid talking to anyone either.

The museum only provided her with a rather awed and happy look once they reached the point that they were approached the museum. At least she'd look like an enthusiastic visitor.

Bro had long since slipped into Jerome's shadow, once Jerome had stepped out of the jet.

That had been the first time either of them had flown in anything like that, and it was enough to keep them both impressed and occupied during the trip, Bro more so then Jerome, the ghost type having plastered his face to the glass, staring down at the speeding world below.
Jerome, holding the sunglasses over his head had been more content to sit back in his seat, minding his own business and staring out the nearest window.

But the ride was over, both the jet, and the taxi.
Jerome slid the sunglasses down from his forehead, over his eyes as he stepped out of the car and stared over at the massive glassy building, with two legendary pokemon statues by the front entrance.

Stepping up next to the nearest team mate, being Tambrey Jerome put his hands in his pockets, teeth playing absently with the inside of his piercing on his lower lip.
Maybe if he stuck with someone who belonged, it could look like she was dragging him here.

"Don't worry about it." Xander gave Jerome a smile. He knew that there was always a chance that things could(and probably will...) go wrong and sunglasses were the least of his worries.

Once the long rides were over he made his way over to the detectors. his small bag was searched but it was only cursory since it plainly only holding a few innocent things. He then moved over to Tambrey and Jerome to help with the mans 'alibi' of belonging, taking out his notebook and pencil to start taking 'notes'.

The grunt nodded at Hayes when he replied, trying to be as serious as possible. It was hard to tell if people were taking you seriously or not, especially when you might as well have been half their age. "Yes, sir," he responded to the mention of running into trouble. He'd gotten out of his fair share of close calls; even if he couldn't remember any of them just then. "But, um...I'm called Grunt Shadow." That was the second time he'd been called 'Shawn'. What was with that? That Grunt Nakura had called him that too. Strange. Not the time to be worrying about it, though.

Going to change into his usual clothes but making sure to take his dex, wallet, and Nakura's pokeballs with him, Shadow tied his sneakers and was set to go. Somehow seeing the laid-back Rockets in their causal clothes seemed to make a lot more sense than seeing them in uniform. He would have easily mistaken them for civilians had he seen them out on the street. At least a bunch of civilians who opted for a whole lot of denim, black, white, and brown, along with baggy pants and sneakers. Oh, well. As long as they weren't seen together, it would probably be alright.

The boy laughed a little to himself as he overhead the conversation between Agent Hayes and Agent Aulus. He was grateful he himself didn't rely on any weapons - just his feet. But his running wouldn't help him in every situation, so when the time came that he had to stand and fight, Nakura's pokemon would be his weapons. Provided they chose to listen to him, of course. So far they seemed to like him well enough, but he had never before attempted to use them in battle. He hoped he still remembered the move sets Nakura had told him they knew.

Stealth? Was that was Hayes had said? Shadow wasn't sure how good he was at stealth, but avoiding fights sounded good to him. Going over to Aulus, the teen tapped the muscular man lightly on the shoulder and whispered, "Isn't a staff like a stick? That means you could pretty much use anything pole-like, right?" He figured there would be plenty of stick-like things at the museum if it came down to it. Like those poles they used to connect to each other with strips of fabric to make lines. Heck if he knew what they were called, but they seemed like the could do some damage in the hands of a skilled staff-wielder. Maybe he was just really attached to his particular weapon.

Before he knew it, they were on a jet out of there and then crammed into a taxi. Not what the street kid was used to at all. It was kind of interesting to experience such new things, but a little disorienting to have it all happen at once. It took a while for the grunt's legs to stop shaking once they were on solid ground again. By then, though, he had a good grasp of his surroundings and a good idea of his teammates. When the red-headed agent from earlier neared him, though, he blinked.

He hadn't realized it when the guy was sitting, and far away in his uniform, but...they seemed to be around the same age. Same height, too. Just...different demeanors. "Uh...hey," he said, holding out a hand. It might have been unheard of to introduce himself in such a way to a rank so high above him, but they weren't at the base anymore. Besides, it looked like the guy could have used some more friends. He did not look happy in the least. Probably something about having to leave that awesome sword of his behind. "Sorry, might be a strange question, but...have we...met before?"

That was only part of it really. It wasn't the root cause of Asch's foul mood, but leaving the sword behind certainly had not helped. He felt belittled by that elite. As if the guy didn't think he knew what he was doing or had the skill to pull it off. This burned him up, and already he was forming a negative impression of Hayes in his mind, even if it wasn't completely founded. But the man was his superior, and he had to obey, unfortunately. That Hayes guy seemed to like to play it safe, and Asch had no respect for that.

The red head's attention focused on the other teen as he spoke and held out his hand. Asch paused before reaching out to shake the other's hand reluctantly.

"No, I don't think so," he replied, distracted enough to not realize the implications of this question at the moment. He certainly didn't remember meeting this guy, but that wasn't to say they hadn't seen each other in passing before.

"I'm Asch," he then said, introducing himself to the grunt.