Hello! Back by popular request, Spirit the Absol! Don't worry, I'm not giving up on my other stories, but I'm editing Day of Burning Skies at the moment and I know a lot of people wanted to see more with this group of characters. So enjoy!

Case 1: The Devon Files

Chapter 1

"Anything else you'd like to add, Ms. Darla?"

The young woman beamed back at the host. It wouldn't do, after all, to be caught frowning on national T.V.! "Yes, Jim, I do. In fact, I was saving this for last."

The man leaned forward, a friendly grin on his face. "Oh-HO! Well please, share with us!"

"In honor of the Devon Corporations third annual charity event," she said with a coy smile, "I will be donating an evening of my company at the auction tomorrow night."

Cheers and whistles broke out from the studio audience as she flashed her white teeth at them. The host grinned and shook his head. "Well, Ms. Darla, I'm not sure that there are any red-blooded young men who would be able to resist that!" He turned to the camera. "You heard it here first, folks! And it all goes to charity! The Devon Corporation is not keeping a nickel from the fundraiser! For all you young trainers out there, here's another announcement I think you'll like! Champion Brendan and his fiancée, May Birch, will be there with signed autographs and a few starter Pokémon for the graduates of the Rustboro Pokémon School. So come on down to tomorrow night for food, fun, and maybe a chance to win an evening with Ms. Darla! Thank you all and goodnight!"

The crowd cheered once more and the show ended. Soon, the cameras were switched off, the guests were ushered out, and Darla was back in the dressing room. She sighed and her Furfrou looked up from the corner. "Oh nothing, Dollie," she said, "I just hope that I don't end up with some rich old pervert."

There was a knock at the door. Two kids stood there, pen and paper in hand. "Excuse me…? Ms. Darla?" the little girl asked, "May we have your autograph?"

The woman smiled and took the pen. "Name?"

"Rachel, and this is my little brother, David."

"We really like your movies, Ms. Darla, ma'am!" the boy burst in. Darla laughed lightly.

"Oh, those things? Well, I would hope that I'm remembered more for my charity, but I don't mind being known as a movie-star." She handed them back their autographs. "There you go!"

"Rachel! David! Where are you!"

"That's Mom," Rachel whispered conspiratorially, "We better go."

"Goodnight, then," Darla said with a smile.

"Night, Ms. Darla!"

A little while later, she was walking through the parking lot with Dollie on her leash beside her. Those kids were cute. Maybe someday, she'd have a few of her own. She just had to find the right guy, one that wasn't after her because she was one of Kalos' new rising stars. After all, she'd been trained by the world-famous Diantha herself!

A figure stepped out of the shadows behind a large van. She stepped backwards in alarm and Dollie stepped forwards, growling. All she saw of him was black: black pants, black jacket, black boots, black gloves and a black hat. But his eyes glowed with a fierce yellow light that illuminated his cheeks and brows. "Darla, my dear," he said in a gravelly but cultured tone, "You really should be more careful this late at night wearing real diamonds around your neck. You never know who you might meet in the darkness!"

There was the flash of an ebony sword, a searing pain in her stomach, and blackness swallowed her vision entirely.

"That was without a doubt the worst thing I've ever experienced."

"Oh come on, Spirit, you're exaggerating. Admit it."

I glared at my mate. "…yes, I suppose I am. But the fact stands that it was a terrible experience." She smiled in triumph. I rolled my eyes. "You know, I used to think that ninetales were supposed to be wise, not grinning whenever they win a minor argument."

She shrugged. "And I thought absols were supposed to be helpful. The difference is, I'll be wiser when I reach one hundred and you'll still be just as difficult."

"Hey! Oh forget it…" We grinned at each other and laughed. "But seriously, I hate plane-flights."

"Why? Because they didn't serve fresh magikarp filets?"

I gave her a fixed look. "We were thousands of feet in the air inside a metal coffin. And no one on the team can fly."

"Final boarding call for Flight 117 to Lumiose City!"

"Poor souls," I muttered. Several of Nine's tails whipped around and smacked me. "Hey!"

"Just wait for Syoran and Rio to get back with the luggage," she said, "Then, we can walk on the ground all you want."

"On the hot pavement?" I said with a derisive snort, "No thanks. Last time I did that, the pads of my feet were burnt for a whole week. I'll ride in my ball." I began to pant. It was hot in Hoenn, after all, and I am the proud owner of the world's glossiest, best-groomed, and silkiest fur. But at the moment, it was making me very warm and I didn't have sweat glands like Syoran. Oh the challenges of being amazing like me… "Hey, is there any water around here?"

A passing mudkip sprayed a stream of water at my head. I whirled around and growled. "Very funny…" He grinned cheekily and bounded after his trainer, some little kid in overalls. I sighed and shook myself, sending the water everywhere in the terminal and causing no small amount of surprised shrieks from humans and Pokémon alike. Nine glared at me.

"Sorry?" I offered.

"Oh look," she said, peering over my shoulder, "Here come Syoran and Rio. Let's get out of here before security throws you out."

"Sounds good." I rose and trotted over toward our trainer. He and Rio each had a bag, though Rio's was larger. Despite his smaller size, he's still a lucario and they can carry a lot without complaining.

"Got everything?" I asked Rio.

"Yep!" he answered cheerfully, "The airline didn't lose anything this time." He blinked. "Why's your fur damp?"

"Um…" I glanced around at the terminal. "Don't ask…"

Syoran cleared his throat. "Everyone ready?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"Yes."

"Yes!" Rio replied with enthusiasm.

Syoran chuckled. "Right. Follow me then. We'll catch a cab into the police department."

He led the way through the terminal. It was pretty busy, even though it wasn't the main one for Hoenn. Lilycove City's airport had that honor. Humans and their Pokémon bustled about, barely avoiding each other at times. Of course, all potentially dangerous Pokémon were stored safely in their Poke-balls and security kept a tight eye on things as a precaution, but lately not many incidents had been reported. Teams Magma and Aqua were disbanded and so far no well-organized criminal group had replaced them. Hoenn was, for the most part, at peace. And for the part that wasn't, well, that's where we came in.

We stepped out of the terminal and Syoran hailed a cab. The four of us piled in. Normally, there were six, but Z was back home in Kanto watching Ruby and Soul, my and Nine's two kits, and Psi was napping in his ball for the fifth time that day like a normal abra.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"Police Headquarters," Syoran said.

The driver raised an eyebrow. "What do you want there?" Syoran sighed and pulled a black case out of his pocket. He opened it and showed it to the driver, who raised his other eyebrow. "Aren't you a bit young to be in the International Police?"

Syoran shrugged. "I'm a month away from being twenty."

"Eh, fair enough." The cabbie started the car and pulled into traffic. "You must be here about that murder then."

"Yep."

"Any new developments so far?"

Syoran smiled tolerantly. "I won't know that until I get to the police station, will I?"

"True, true. Well I hope you nab the fellow who did it. Nasty business, that's what it is. And such a pretty young woman too."

"We'll do our best. That's all I can promise," Syoran promised before lapsing into silence. The rest of the ride was quiet between the humans at least. Nine was sitting next to me and she nudged me.

"Hey," she said softly, "You doing okay?"

I looked at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, being back in Hoenn," she said, "Where your family was…um, you know."

"Yes, I know," I said with a slight growl. "Heh, funny how Hoenn and murder seem to go together in my life. At least my family's killer is behind bars. Now, we have to catch another one."

"And we will catch him!" Rio declared, "And then we can explore! I wonder what it's like being in a contest?" He turned to Syoran. "Think we'll have time for a contest while we're here?"

Syoran smiled and patted his head. "No, sorry Rio. This is a mission, not a vacation."

"You say something?" the driver called.

"Just talking to my Pokémon," Syoran replied casually.

"Ah. I have a daughter who likes to do that. We have two skitties back at home. She loves to play with them. Pretends she can understand what they say back too. Cutest thing you ever saw!" The cabbie laughed. "You know, Devon's got this new machine they're working on. Translates what the Pokémon say into plain, everyday speech! I tell you, the things they do with computers these days, it blows my mind." He glanced back and grinned. "Maybe Devon will let you use it one of these days! Find out what your Pokémon really think of you."

Syoran chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds amazing! I'll have to ask them about it." He winked at us and we hid smiles.

Allow me to explain. A few years ago, before we joined the International Police, we were all kidnapped by a group of very powerful ghosts. If you read my last memoir, you'll know all about it. Long story short, we got pulled into a war between Mew and Giratina. Didn't go so well for us, but in the process one of the leaders of the ghosts, a mismagius named Hecate, became very annoyed that Syoran could not understand her when she gave him an order. So, she put a spell on him that allows him to understand most Pokémon and it hasn't worn off so far. At this point, we're pretty sure it's permanent. If it's not, the fifth member of our team, Z, has been studying the human language, so he'll be able to translate.

We pulled up at the station. Syoran paid and we hopped onto the curb. I yelped in pain and dashed for the nearest shade. The concrete was scorching hot! The others looked at me in amusement. My cheeks flushed and I looked away sullenly. "Well…you try walking on it when you spent a good portion of your life living on top of Mt. Coronet."

"I'm a steel-type. Doesn't hurt me!" Rio declared, proudly standing directly in the sunlit area of the sidewalk. He hesitated. "Although…okay! Ow! Ow! Ow!" He dashed over to join me in the shade, sat down, and blew on his foot-paws furiously. Nine sighed and walked slowly over to join us.

"Wimps…" she muttered.

"Shut up," I responded with mock anger, "You're a fire type."

"Well, if you are all ready," Syoran said, carrying both the bags, "I'd say it's time we went in."

The inside of the building was nothing special. Sure, the entire city was made out of stone on the outside, but on the inside it was just another human building. Although there was the distinct smell of coffee and doughnuts… More so than normal, that is. I sniffed the air. Some mold too, though not a whole lot. Probably under the carpet. It wasn't a terribly soft one. Must have been one of the things they cut corners on when they were building the place.

Syoran walked up to the front desk. "Hello," he said with a friendly smile, "I'm here to see Detective Langley."

"She's not available," the officer answered, "She's working on a case."

"Which is why I'm here," Syoran countered.

The officer looked him up and down. "Kid, if you're here with information about the case, we have someone taking statements in the back room. But Detective Langley…"

Syoran set his badge on the counter and gave the man a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sir, wasn't being clear. I'm with the International Police. They sent me here in response to your request. May I see Langley now?"

The man was taken aback. "You mean to tell me they sent a kid?"

"I'm almost twenty…"

"My point exactly." He sighed. "Fine, I'll let you into the office. Don't expect a warm welcome though. We were hoping for someone like that Looker fellow."

"Which is why he couldn't come," Syoran replied. He motioned for us to follow him as we headed back into the building. "He's too well-known. Whenever he shows up, all the suspects become very cautious. Me, on the other hand…"

"I suppose there's some logic to that," the officer grunted, "Well, right down the hall and to your left. If she's there. She might be interviewing people at the convention."

Detective Langley was there, though. And she didn't appear too pleased to see us either. "Great, now I have to play baby-sitter too!" she exclaimed when Syoran explained who he was. I growled at her and felt Nine's hackles rise beside me. Syoran placed hand on both of our shoulders, a warning to keep on our best behavior. I huffed.

"You requested the IP's help," he said, "And here I am. Now, what do you need me to do?"

"Stay out of the way. There's no room for green recruit here." She rose and snatched her bag off the floor. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go down and review security procedures for the dinner tonight. If you really want to help, we could always use an extra set of eyes making sure nothing suspicious happens to the guests."

"Mind if we catch a ride with you, then?" Syoran asked. Langley gave him a piercing glare. "Right. We'll walk then. Maybe check into a hotel while we're at it. See you in a few…" She was already out the door. "…hours." He sighed glumly. "Well that went well…"

"She seemed very stressed…" Rio said, "I think she's overwhelmed but doesn't want to admit it."

"Makes sense," I said with a growl, "After all, humans are very arrogant. They don't like admitting that they can't do something."

"Like someone else I know…" Nine muttered.

I looked over at her. "You say something, dear?"

She put an innocent expression on her face. "Hmm? What?"

I rolled my eyes. I knew from experience that I'd never get her to admit anything. "Never-mind…"

"Anyways," Syoran said, "I guess we're walking. Hope there's a Pokémon Center or a hotel nearby…"

The officer at the front desk gave us directions to a nearby Pokémon Center. The room wasn't free, since Syoran wasn't an active participant in the Gym Challenge, but it was cheaper than one of the fancy hotels. Still served terrible food, though. It was that 'nutritional' stuff that tasted like cardboard. Fortunately, we only stayed long enough to set the bags down and put the 'Do not Disturb' sign on the door. Syoran got directions to the convention center from the nurse and we were on our way.

It was a pretty large building by human standards. Of course, humans build so many huge things that this was nothing particularly awe-inspiring. It was stone, though, which was not normal. A nice, sand-brown stone that reminded me of the pictures I'd seen of the desert. Maybe it had actually come from Hoenn's desert, though I can't imagine how they'd quarry it with all those raging sandstorms. Maybe it came from Orre instead. Eh, who cares? It looked nice.

Inside, we searched for Detective Langley. She was literally running around like a bunnelby and looked almost ready to pull her hair out. "I want anyone who knew the deceased front and center right now!" she shouted, "Now! This is an investigation, people! We have a dead movie star on our hands, in case you forgot!"

A short man in an expensive suit ran up to her. He was sweating and had a nervous smile on his face. "Er, Detective Langley? If you could be a bit more discreet, the Devon corporation has enough bad press as it is without your…outbursts reminding everyone."

"I am doing my job, Chairman," she snapped, "And I don't see you helping, so move or I'll have you moved!"

"Detective, please!"

"Out of my way!"

"Hey!" Syoran called. They both turned to him. "Hi. Just a quick question, Detective, what am I supposed to be doing here?"

She threw a clipboard at him and he barely caught it. "See that list? Interview everyone on it! I've got to go double-check the security protocols for tonight's banquet, which is in two hours."

Syoran looked over the list. "Um, you want this done in two hours?"

"Yes, is that a problem kid?"

He gulped and saluted sharply. "Nope! Not at all! Come on, Rio! I'll need your help for this."

Shortly, we managed to commandeer a small room. Nine and I were left to guard it while Syoran and Rio went to gather the interviewees. A few people tried to get in to use the room for something or the other, but one baleful Absol-glare from yours-truly soon put them out of that idea. Shortly, they returned with a tall, broad-shouldered man in a well-trimmed reddish-gold suit. It was almost the exact same color as Nine's fur and he had light blonde hair to boot! Weird.

Syoran pulled up a cushioned chair for the man to sit in. "Thank you for your time, Mr…?"

"Rose," the man replied, "Well, Dr. Rose, technically, but I'm not very active in the field anymore." He laughed in a casual, friendly manner. "My investments paid off, you see. I have all the money I need to live comfortably for the rest of my life." He gestured toward Syoran. "And you, young man, what's your name?"

"Syoran Syke. I'm an agent with the IP." He gestured to us. "This is most of my team. Rio, who'll be scanning your aura so we can make sure you're not lying, Spirit, and Nine."

The man ignored me and Rio entirely and turned to Nine, a wide smile on his face. "A ninetales! How delightful! I presume you know the story of how they came to be?"

"Yes, I've heard it many times," Syoran responded, "Nine humans sacrificed themselves and were made saints. In their honor, the first Ninetales came to be, and all his children are called that because it was his name."

"Indeed!" the man said, pleased, "I see you are not one of those trainers who merely befriends Pokémon, but takes the time to understand them as well!"

Syoran smiled. "I try. Now, I have several questions for you about the murder, if you don't mind."

"No, not at all." He smiled conspiratorially, "I was actually trying to avoid some rather troublesome individuals, if you know what I mean. This is a welcome excuse."

"Well alright then." Syoran nodded to Rio, who closed his eyes watched the man's aura. "Where were you on the night that Ms. Darla was murdered?"

Dr. Rose pursed his lips. "Let's see, I was preparing for my speech this evening. I'm giving a talk on the origins of various Pokémon, you see. People are crazy about this 'Primal Reversion' right now, but I assure you that there is plenty of interest in the histories of all sorts of Pokémon. Take the seedot species, for example…"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Rose, but were you alone?" Syoran pressed.

The man blinked and smiled ruefully. "Well I'm afraid I was. I suppose that's terribly inconvenient for you, but I think you'll find that a lot of people were by themselves around the time of the murder."

"How do you know when she was murdered?" Syoran asked suspiciously.

Dr. Rose laughed. I didn't like him very much. He was treating this whole thing just a bit too lightly. Someone was dead, after all. "Oh, you are good! But I'm afraid you're suspicions are in vain. The police distributed a pamphlet with all the information they had to everyone at the convention. Didn't you get one too?"

"Um…" Syoran's expression gave away the answer.

"Ah, they put one over on you, eh? I wouldn't worry about it too much," Dr. Rose said, "Probably just their way of hazing the new guy. There was plenty of that at the university. I can lend you mine, if you want. Save you the trouble of embarrassing yourself again."

Syoran flushed. "That would be nice…"

Rose fished it out of his jacket pocket and presented it triumphantly. "There you go! Here, let me write my address down on it so you can find me if you need to ask me any more questions." He leaned forward, an excited grin on his face. "I must say though, this is all rather exciting, isn't it? I mean, I expected to find a few interesting things here, but a real murder! Almost makes me want to turn detective myself!" He rose and made as if to leave.

"Thanks…" Syoran said hesitantly, "Well, um, one more question."

"Oh, sorry, sorry, I didn't realize we weren't finished," Dr. Rose said, "Tell you what, I have to run now, but if you'd like I'll be at the banquet tonight. You can sit with me and ask me all the questions you would like!" He grinned and gave Syoran a sloppy salute. "Till later, my intrepid young officer!" And he was out the door and gone before we could stop him.

Syoran leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Well, Rio? What did you think?"

"Not much to tell…" Rio said, "He definitely has some secrets, but he never outright lied to us. I'm pretty sure he knows something more though."

"I guess you're going to dinner, then," I said to Syoran.

He nodded. "Looks that way."

"In that case, you'd better change into something nicer," Nine said.

Syoran rolled his eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Syoran," Nine said, "We were both raised by your mom. I think we can both agree that I am not her." She smirked. "Although, having kits of my own may have brought out some of my maternal instincts."

"Marvelous…" he muttered. Suddenly, the fourth Poke-ball on his belt popped open Psi appeared on his head.

"Hi Sy'ran!" he said excitedly in his childish voice, "We on the case?"

"Yep. Enjoy your nap?"

"Yeah. I was tired…" the abra responded sheepishly.

"You're always tired…" I muttered under my breath.

Rio cleared his throat. "So…don't mean to interrupt, but were we going to do anymore interviews? Because a nap sounds really nice to me right now…"

Syoran chuckled. "Sorry, Rio, we are. We'll take a break before the banquet though, okay?"

We interviewed five more people before it was time to head back and get ready. Syoran pulled a tie and jacket from his belongings, brushed our fur, showered, and finished getting ready to go just in time for us to make it to the banquet. Dr. Rose was seated at the front table alongside an impressive looking bunch of rich humans. Due to space limitations, Psi and I were the only ones out of our Poke-balls: Psi on Syoran's shoulder and I beside him. Several other guests brought their Pokémon as well. Dr. Rose had a braxien with a red scarf around her neck.

"Fascinating creatures, the fennekin line is," he said to everyone at the table, "They are…oh, hello! Everyone, allow me to introduce Syoran Syke, agent of the International Police." He smiled in amusement. "He had a few questions he didn't get to ask earlier, so I invited him to dinner since I didn't have anyone else to give that one guest spot to."

"Oh come now, I can hardly believe that," a lady in a…low black dress said, "With your personality? It's a wonder you don't have women beating down your door."

Rose laughed. "You are too kind! But I'm afraid that none so far have been able to put up with my random lectures on the intricacy of Pokémon history. Now, back to what I was saying…oh, you can sit next to me, Syoran. Don't be shy. Nice abra, by the way. Did I ever mention how abras like to…"

I ignored him and walked over to the braxien. She was currently absorbed in a little game she was playing with herself. She summoned flames of fire and passed them from claw to claw, never letting one touch anything flammable. "He seems quite the blabbermouth," I said.

"Yeah," she said, not looking up, "But he gives us the credit we're due, you know? He's the main investor in the Pokémon translator project. Wants trainers to be able to understand their Pokémon better. Literally." She smirked. "Always wanted to know what it would be like to have a conversation with a human. Can't wait for it to be finished."

I nodded. "I'm Spirit, by the way."

"Hexxas," she said, extending a flaming paw. I hesitated and she put the fire out. Then we shook paws.

Dinner was a pretty nice affair. Humans in fancy clothes wheeled out carts filled with the most mouth-watering smells imaginable. Syoran managed to get me a fresh steak, though he did get a few looks from the more upper-class members of society when he said I wanted it raw. Well of course I did! Tastes better that way. Used to hunt down prey and kill it, after all. Wouldn't want meat any other way.

"Want me to cook that for you?" Hexxas asked.

"No," I growled. My mouth watered as I stared at the heavenly delicacy. "This little beauty is all mine."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Dinner went well. Syoran asked a few questions, but found nothing of note. Psi was very popular with the women at the table and they all wanted turns holding him, though Syoran did end up snatching him away when he got uncomfortable. Then, the speeches began. Dr. Rose gave one, a passionately worded dissertation on the importance of a deeper understanding of Pokémon. Then, towards the end of the evening, an elderly man with medals on his chest rose to speak.

Dr. Rose leaned over to Syoran. "That, my boy, is General Donnellson of the Hoenn Defense Corp. Long illustrious career. Medals for valor. Everything you could want in a commander. There were some accusations that he was involved with a few of the criminal gangs, but nothing ever came of them."

"Interesting…" Syoran muttered.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the general began, "Let me begin by thanking the Devon Corporation for this excellent meal. Now, since this is a charity banquet, I will be donating a significant sum. How much? Well, I wouldn't want to brag, would I?"A few chuckles greeted his remark. "This year is a good time for Hoenn. Tourism is on the rise, criminal activity is at record lows, and Groudon and Kyogre are once more locked in slumber thanks to the efforts of Brandon and May here."

Cheers erupted as a young man and woman rose, smiling and waving. "Yes, we are fortunate to have heroes such as them. But, Ladies and Gentlemen, let us not forget the everyday heroes, the men and women in uniform, who work every day to maintain our peace and security. Let us remember…"

There was a stairway situated behind him leading down onto the stage. Why it was there, I don't know. But suddenly, a thin, young man about Syoran's age dressed all in black with a long trench-coat of the same color appeared at the top of it. He walked purposefully down, hands at his sides. Everyone stared at him in confusion as he walked up behind General Donnellson and tapped him on the shoulder. The old man turned, disgruntled and put off by the sudden intrusion. "Er, yes? What is it?"

"General Donnellson," he said in a voice that, though not particularly loud, we could all hear clearly, "I am happy to inform you that you are relieved of your duties, sir." He extended his arm and an ebony blade materialized in it. "All of them!"

The general was dead before Syoran could even rise from his seat.