Anyone who saw Gatlocke prancing down the halls with a naked adolescent in a net didn't dwell too hard on it. It was Gatlocke, after all.
"What the hell is that?"
He grinned at the spike of incredulity in the fellow agent's voice, dumping his prize at the feet of the gentleman before him. "Mine."
Knight exchanged glances with a grunt he'd been previously conversing with before dismissing her and turning to look once again at Gatlocke and then at the unconscious boy bagged in a net. The kid was completely nude, every inch of sun-baked skin completely exposed, curling into himself. He seemed to cringe slightly in his sleep, cold floor siphoning away his body heat. Couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen.
Fighting the bile that gurgled in his throat, Knight found his voice again. "Uh, no. You see, Gat…. This." He pointed at the minor. "This is a felony not even Providence can protect you from. So, really, what the actual fuck?"
"The mouth on you, Knight, really," Gatlocke snickered. "Mother must be turning in her grave. All severed parts, eh?"
Knight bristled at that, but refused to rise to the jibe. It'd been long enough that just about everyone in the facility had grown at least somewhat desensitized to Gatlocke and his offensive sense of-- well, it couldn't even be called a sense of humor. More like just a sense of being offensive. The choice strategy was to ignore him, and eventually, Gatlocke's interest would taper off if whomever he was pestering didn't allow themselves to be tempted into a fistfight.
Right now, the eccentric man seemed especially restless. As completely inappropriate as the comment had been, it was also only half-hearted, and Gatlocke wasn't one to recycle old bait: Bringing up the fact that Knight's mother had long turned and been dissected by Providence's research department had been the first thing he'd poked at after the two met, earning himself three weeks in a cell and Knight a week on restricted duty for the damage done trying to gun Gatlocke down right there in the eating commons.
None of that drama today, though. Today, Gatlocke was quick to get to the point.
Before Providence's second-in-command could question him further, Gatlocke flicked out his fieldwork nanite reader and tossed it at him. Knight caught it easily, glaring skeptically at his partner, and Gatlocke wagged his tongue playfully back.
It was a better feeling than expected, Gatlocke discovered, to hear the sharp intake of air once Knight did relent and refer to the reader.
"An evo," Knight breathed. His eyes narrowed, double-checking each reading on the tiny screen. "He-- it is an evo."
"True, true, and I found it, so I--" Gatlocke plucked his scanner from Knight's hand and winked at the glare he received. "--claim it. Mine. Mine, mine, mine~. Just wanted to run it by you for the go-ahead. You know, do things all proper and such."
Knight rolled his eyes, already sick of the sight of his partner. "Approved."