Mauvaise Fille
Chapter 1: Mauvaise Fille / Bad Girl
"Monsieur Calem," the interviewer began, smiling brightly while speaking into her microphone.
"It's a pleasure to be able to speak to our current Champion again." The trainer in question offered a polite smile and shook her hand in greeting.
"Enchanté," he replied, leaving her flushing a little and smiling broader.
"Feh, merde," Celosia cursed, yanking the chair out from the break room table and falling into it. She nodded up at the television where the interview continued, while beside her sat Bryony, slowly stirring sweetener into her coffee.
"Where's the remote?" Celosia demanded, looking vaguely around the laboratory break room. Bryony only shrugged, her green hair moving with her shoulders as she pulled her spoon out and sucked it. Her former partner-in-crime huffed again, louder, before turning in her chair towards the security booth.
"Hey!" she called, frowning when the guard within merely lowered his magazine. "This is cruel and unusual," she accused, before firing off a demand for a better television and better coffee. Bryony only nodded along with half a mind, her attention flitting between her espresso and the interview. She already knew the odds of getting either one was slim to nil. Technically, she and her fellow Team Flare scientists were no longer on bail, but in "rehabilitation." Really though, the secure laboratory where they spent their working hours could be considered a type of house arrest.
At least that's how Celosia constantly viewed it.
Seeing that she was getting nowhere with the guard, Cel ran her fingers through her short, purple locks and angrily stirred her coffee.
"Tough day breaking atoms, me petite?" Bryony teased, eyes flicking from the television to Celosia from behind her emerald safety glasses. Celosia nodded, hunching over her coffee protectively.
"If they expect the research to be better documented, they should provide an assistant who doesn't have this kind of manicure to look after," she sniffed, before playing with her coffee cup and looking out at nothing in particular. "Someone young and handsome, with big hands..." she mused.
Bryony rolled her eyes, sipping her coffee and glancing back up at the interview.
"Someone misses dating," she hummed, her green-painted lips smirking as Celosia snapped out of her daydreams.
"Well that ends tonight," the other scientist declared, leaning over her cup and lowering her voice. "Guess who met a swimmer last night?"
Bryony scoffed and shook her emerald head, bringing her cup back to her lips while Celosia continued.
"No, really! He says he's in town from the coast and that he would die if I didn't join him for dinner tonight."
"And you said you'd save his life?" Bryony asked, hiding her face with her raised cup. Cel wasn't anywhere near as witty as she herself was, but she would have still had some flirty, smooth way of accepting while keeping him dangling.
"Let's just say if he looks as good in a suit as he does out of it, I may let him practice his breast stroke," Celosia smirked, and both former Flare's giggled around their cups.
Together they were sure they shattered every old stereotype of the professional scientist.
"It's been awhile since you've had a good coffee story to share," Celosia mused, while Bryony's eyes flicked back up at the screen from behind her visor. "If he doesn't disappoint, want me to share him? It'll be just like poor Ambrose all over again," she added with a smirk.
Ah, poor Ambrose. He never had a chance against the pair of them, really. But the way they saw it, if he was going to fall asleep and leave them unsatisfied, he could at least fund their other activities. Like the ten million they needed for a pair of fashionable Team Flare suits, after all.
Bryony shook her head, somewhere between whimsy and politeness.
"Thanks," she said lightly, before finishing the rest of her coffee. "But I'll let you keep him – swimmers spend too much time in cold water," she finished with a wink. Celosia shrugged and sipped at her cup, while the interviewer wrapped up her time talking with the Champion.
"You really have learned Kalos phrases quickly," she gushed, while Calem chuckled bashfully and smiled.
"Merci," he thanked her. "I have a good teacher. Speaking of which, I have an appointment coming up soon..."
"Of course! But, before you go-" She grabbed his arm, as if to stop him from suddenly fleeing before she asked her final, big question. "There's word your old neighbour, Serena, is making big news in Sinnoh – is there any truth to the rumours that you and her were an item?"
Calem laughed warmly, before giving a practiced spiel about Serena's capabilities as a trainer. "... but we were only ever friends," he finished.
"How is it our ruling Champ hasn't found some nice trainer to take to dinner?" the interviewer added quickly as he pulled his arm away.
"Well, I'll tell you a secret," he said, lowering his voice as though he wasn't talking on Live television all of a sudden.
"I prefer bad girls," he said playfully, and without another word he turned and left, leaving her to regain her composure before signing off.
"Bad girls?" Celosia mumbled, putting her empty cup back onto the saucer. "That goody-goody? We need cable on this thing." And with a parting wave, she took her empty china to the sink and left the break room. Alone and uninterested in the rest of the programming, Bryony slid the remote out of her coat pocket and switched the screen off.
She only spared Celosia a brief thought that night, wondering how high the restaurant bill would be once she was done. Bryony preferred the quieter nights these days – relaxing on her plush sofa with her work shirt unbuttoned and legs bare, with a glass of Kalos wine to enjoy.
"I understand I'm quite the teacher," she hummed, sipping her glass while crossing one long leg over the other. She slid her green visor off and bit her lip, free of lipstick for a change, while she admired her view.
Calem really filled out nicely over the last year, she thought, watching him lean shirtless against her coffee table and sip his own drink.
"I'm a fast learner," he sassed back, refusing to acknowledge that she had seen the ambush interview. "Besides, you just like seeing me beneath you." He winked at her then, and Bryony flashed him with a triumphant smile.
"True – you do look good down there," she mused, swallowing another mouthful of wine. "And I know I look good too," she grinned, feeling a heat flash through her as he kneeled towards her. With a playful wink, she planted her foot against his chest and waved her finger at him.
"Ah ah," she chided. "Teacher is gonna give you a pop quiz, ma chère," Calem's eyebrow rose as he settled against the sofa, forcing her knee to bend as he pressed against her. He couldn't resist, really. Even if they were once on opposite ends of a conflict, her confidence was just gorgeous.
"Fire away," he challenged her, lifting her other foot up and rubbing his thumbs in slow motions, watching Bryony melt just a little into her chair while he massaged her.
"Name?" she asked with an airy voice, watching him through hazy eyes. Calem gave her a playful look, amused how a simple foot rub always made the fierce scientist turn to jelly.
"Pied," he said, before lifting her foot and giving her toe a kiss, instantly drawing a throaty moan from her while her muscles tightened. He sat it on his shoulder, before moving further along her skin.
"Jambe," he named her leg, fingers slipping behind her knee and stroking while Bryony worried at her lip, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink against her emerald hair.
"Keep going," she said, but with a wavering note in her voice. Calem smirked up at her, enjoying her composure slipping as he stroked the length of her thigh.
"Cuisse," he whispered, before lowering his head and planting a kiss against her warm flesh. The former Flare didn't try to hide her moan, fingers immediately winding in his messy hair while he lavished her.
"Quiz done, you passed," she said with a rush, before grabbing hold of his shoulders and coaxing him up. As soon as the trainer was off his knees, she yanked him down against her, possessively seizing his lips with hers.
She was glad she had removed her lipstick, really. As funny as he was with her green paint smeared across his mouth, it had been at least a week since they had enjoyed a private night together. Now with him gently pinning her against her sofa, the scientist was damned if she wasn't going to enjoy the evening.
Calem cupped her chin, lifting her face upwards before nuzzling her neck. It was enough to make one of her legs wrap around his hips.
"Throat," he translated in native Kalos, and she chuckled while running her hands down his chest.
"Going for bonus points?" she asked, but he didn't reply, instead moving lower and kissing along her bare skin.
"Shoulder... chest... bosom." He slid her shirt open, exposing her breasts and trailing kisses across her full slopes. Bryony sighed, playing with his hair. 'Oh yes,' she thought. 'Definitely a fast learner.' Not that she would tell him that.
"Yes, yes, I'm a good teacher," she hummed, lifting her chest towards his lips before pushing his hand down to her hip. Bryony smiled when Calem's fingers slid underneath her panties without being urged, slipping around the back to caress her rear.
"And what are these called?" she smirked, wondering if he would be able to remember any of the Kalos words for underwear.
"In the way," he said instead, tongue flicking across her nipple and making her mewl with delight.
"Well, hero," she said coyly, running her finger down his front before she settled on his loose belt. "We'll have to fix that, wont we...?"
While she would never admit it any time soon, Bryony's favourite thing about Calem wasn't his skill or stamina, or even the delicious kink that came from sleeping with an old adversary. It was the way he would slip an arm underneath her knees and carry her to her bed, before affectionately (if eagerly) undressing her.
"Oh, thank Arceus they found the remote," Celosia griped, snatching it up and shutting off the television without another word. Bryony continued to stir her espresso, her cheek resting on her palm while she drifted through idle thoughts.
"Was I right about the cold water?" she asked while adjusting her safety goggles. Her attention was still wavering, but Celosia either didn't notice or didn't comment.
"Probably. I don't know. Why don't you ask Aliana?" Bryony's face slipped out of her palm in surprise, levelling an incredulous look at her companion. Celosia was too busy angrily stirring sugar into her cup to notice, her purple lips pulled into a frown. Out of the four Team Flare Scientist girls, Aliana was generally considered "the good one." As good as a fiery criminal could be, anyhow.
"There I was, looking fabulous," Celosia revealed, and Bryony almost rolled her eyes behind her visor. "... and hey – he fills out a suit nice, so I figure I'll have a good evening no matter what. And who sweeps in but Ali!" The plastic spoon was removed and flung with force, landing in a nearby bin. Celosia seemed to hunker down against the table, holding her cup by the handle while recounting how their redheaded colleague had quickly charmed her date.
"And when I get back from fixing my lipstick, they're both gone," she finished with a scathing glare at everything and nothing. "She's such a... a criminal."
"Aren't we all?" Bryony smirked, sipping her coffee while playing with a loose strand of emerald hair. Celosia huffed, flicking her hand in a dismissive way.
"Yeah right. Just look at you – you've become the biggest softy ever over the last six months." She raised her cup and drank half the contents in one go, before drumming her fingers on the table and pouting to herself.
"This sucks," she moaned. "Here we are – accredited scientists and we're under watch, doing what we're told instead of living the high life in a perfect world." Celosia finished her coffee, waiting for something, anything, before turning back to stare at her old partner. Bryony was still sitting there, playing with her hair and nursing her coffee, lost in thoughts. Adding nothing to their miserable situation.
The figurative penny dropped and Celosia pointed a finger towards the emerald woman.
"You are quiet. Too quiet," she accused. "Your life should suck like mine, and here you are, fiddling with your hair and smiling away." She stood and leaned across the table, critically looking over the other woman as if scrutinizing her, while Bryony barely resisted the urge to shove her away.
"You're content," Celosia said.
"Shut up."
"You're satisfied," she continued.
"So what?"
"Mon Dieu," she breathed. "You're seeing someone."
Bryony huffed and turned away, bringing her cup to hide her frown of annoyance. It was all the confirmation Celosia needed, and immediately the purple-haired woman was up and badgering her with questions. How long, who are they, and how good were they?
"Sometimes you can be a pain in my perfect ass," Bryony muttered, raising her cup and finishing the last of her coffee. And then, just because Celosia really was a pain, she decided to torture her just a little bit.
"Yes," she said. "I've been seeing a guy for awhile. And yes." She gave her companion a slow, satisfied smile. "He's very good. " She leaned closer, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "And if you're thinking of joining us some night soon..."
Celosia's cheeks flushed a little bit, all the while leaning forward to hear the whispering teases becoming gradually softer.
"... tough. I'm keeping this one for me."
The purple scientist reeled back as if stricken, watching her green partner with confusion and embarrassment.
"Oh, you brat," she said, shaking her head as if to free herself from mental cobwebs. "You're sweet on this one, aren't you? Aww..." Her voice dropped to a sickly sweet tone, her hands clasping beneath her chin in a mockery. "You're such a lovely lady, Bry."
But Bryony shook her head and smirked, unfazed. She stood, not bothering to shift her empty cup or chair, and made a move to leave.
"Nope," she said smoothly, making a popping sound with her emerald lips. "I'm a bad girl." And without waiting to see if Celosia would make the connection, she sauntered back to work.