Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or anything involved in this fic except the characters of Alexander Alexander and Edward Rochester Alexander. Everything else belongs to Nintendo and the other people who own Pokémon.

Author's note: I do not condone stealing, breaking and entering, or any of the other criminal acts Alexander/Rochester performs over the course of this story. They simply are a part of his character. Stealing is wrong, and if you're caught stealing, you'll go to jail. Don't be a criminal. (This announcement paid for by the Association of Soccer Moms gathered in my room with various weapons pointed at me telling me to include this message. If you're overly concerned about negative influences on your children by the media to the point of ridiculousness, join the Association of Soccer Moms, and somebody please save me.)

This fanfiction is rated T for violence, criminal activity, character death, and gushy romance that nobody under 14 should be forced to deal with (if you feel that this should be rated M instead, feel free to tell me so; I have no intention of being a rule-breaker).

And now, without further ado, I present to you: Jewel Thieves…

Alexander Alexander hated his last name with a passion. Of course, he had a right to; his parents may have thought it was funny, but Alex considered it cruel, and his peers had always just thought of it as just something to tease him about. He considered his options for changing it as he darted among the trees surrounded the nearby mansion (hey, it was dark, but even so they provided excellent cover). After all, his parents had recently been killed in a car crash by a drunk driver. Alex may have hated his parents for giving him his stupid name, but he still loved them very much, and had vowed revenge. Alex was a very cold, vengeful person, which was why he had developed a very nasty habit of stealing whenever he could. Not breaking-and-entering or anything that required a lot of time; Alex was simply a pickpocket (not professionally, obviously, but still capable of stealing a wallet from someone as he walked past them). He had started by stealing everything he could from kids who tormented him over his name, and eventually upgraded to stealing wallets from random people in the streets. Although this vengeful spirit started causing Alex's passive-aggressive behavior, it didn't deter students from making fun of his name…until Alex attacked one of the bullies and got himself into a scrap that had practically destroyed his reputation. Now seen by everybody as a homicidal maniac, his friends had deserted him and the girl he loved had rejected him. The only upside to the whole affair is that no one dared tease him about his name anymore, but this was only because they were too scared about having the crap beaten out of them; no one dared approach him about anything anymore. Fortunately the incident had occurred off of school grounds, so although his middle school administrators had known about it, there wasn't really any disciplinary action they could take (they had tried, but Alex's parents had intervened on his behalf, claiming that the event was out of the school's jurisdiction).

It was this very vengeful spirit that was causing him to dodge among trees at midnight behind a very stately manor. One of the occupants of this house was the teenager who had killed his parents while driving home from a party. Although this sort of thing happened from time to time in the town (full of rich WASP kids with nothing better to do), nobody had ever actually died before. And Alex wanted to get revenge on the bastard who had made his parents that unfortunate statistic ever since he quickly memorized the license plate number on the BMW speeding away from the wreckage (it really wasn't that hard; he knew the kid from school and had seen that particular car quite a few times). He had slipped away while no one was watching, grabbed his most prized possessions from his house (including a complete set of Pokémon Advance Generation Video Games, and his Game Boy Advance SP, all bought using money he'd stolen), and relocated them to his hideout in a nearby abandoned construction site.

Slipping throughout the hallways and checking for security cameras or motion detectors (there weren't any…hadn't these people ever heard of security?), Alex headed towards the mansion's central room. It was there that this particular family housed their most prized possession: a mystical flawless emerald relieved from a tribe in Africa after they had been massacred trying to resist European conquest. Alex had read about their acquisition of the emerald in a local newspaper; he figured he could plant it in the sons' room while he was drunk and frame him for the robbery. This would lead to an investigation, since the boy would be drunk, and his parents' murderer would ultimately be brought to justice…or at least, that was the plan. The problem with plans is that they have this tendency to go horribly awry.

Picking the lock on the glass case housing the emerald, Alex shuddered for a moment, wondering how this kid could have ignored all the warnings about alcohol given in health classes. Alex himself was a good student (he always got A's and B+'s, or B's in his AP classes), and had never let anything get in the way of his studies. He owed this, of course, to his parents, who desired nothing more than to see their only son get into a really good college. Still, he found it hard to balance his studies, his numerous extra-curricular activities, and rugby, the only sport he was good at (although the fact that he could beat the shit out of other players and manage to remain intact only fueled his new negative reputation; he hoped that if he could get into a good college he'd be able to leave that reputation behind). Turning his attention to the task at hand, and snickering cockily at how easy it was, he quickly removed the emerald, not even bothering to notice the pressure-activated alarm beneath the emerald until after it had been set off.

Tucking the emerald into his jacket pocket, the beeping noise startled the poor thief just as he was closing the case's door. Realizing his mistake about getting overconfident in his skills and the family's lack of security, he had let his guard down and allowed himself to get caught…Alex quickly found a window and jumped out, forgetting about planting the emerald on the kid. For once in his life, he didn't know what to do. He just followed his instincts and ran.

At the abandoned construction site where Alex had built his makeshift hideout, a blue glowing aura surrounded some of the bolts supporting a platform. They seemingly unscrewed themselves and disappeared into the bushes, but nobody was around to notice the oddity. Wish a flash of blinding white light, the bolts disappeared for eternity.
Alex ran through the streets of his town, not stopping to look back. He'd wanted to head back to the scene of the car crash and pay homage to his parents, but it was too risky. He had everything he needed anyways, as well as a quickly-grabbed family portrait he'd taken off the mantle before he left to enact his revenge. Faces had a tendency to get distorted or erased over time. Alex had no intention of letting that happen to his parents.

As he ran towards the construction site, he began to wonder how this had happened. He had gotten cocky, and now his plan for exacting revenge was ruined. He needed to think of a way to dispose of the emerald, or at least find a place to put it. He decided to stop quickly at the construction site, and then head back to the house of another kid who had always hated his parents' murderer and plant the emerald there. Using his gloved hand to wipe the sweat off of his face, Alex muttered to himself, "Sixteen years old and I could've already screwed up my life. At least I don't have kleptomania or something like that. Then even though I'd know that I have to stop stealing, I wouldn't be able to. Fortunately this is just a hobby that I can give up at any time…"

Alex slowly crept into the abandoned construction site by hopping from tree to tree, then jumping down into the lot. He'd twisted his ankle many times doing this, but had always explained it to his parents as having fallen while running. They believed him because he constantly needed to train for rugby by running and sometimes crashing into things, so they thought that his pickpocketing excursions were just extra training for the sport. In fact, they were, as Alex had toned the muscles in his legs to make him an incredible runner to help with getaways during these excursions. These muscles had been an invaluable asset to him, helping him to navigate the dangerous, deadly maze that was now his home (at least for the next day or so).

Darting among the dormant equipment and rusting supplies, his image was momentarily reflected in a mirror lying against some nearby iron bars. The image showed a kid, about 5' 6" tall, dressed entirely in black: black long-sleeved shirt, black jogging pants (admittedly with white stripes), black sneakers, black ski mask, black hat, black trenchcoat, black gloves to prevent his fingerprints from being left behind. Suddenly, Alexander appeared behind the mirror, ducking into a secret underground cavern. Upon emerging, Alex has become a different person: wavy, light brown hair; soft, blue eyes that had been described as "dreamy" by many a female classmate prior to the…incident; a plain, forest green "rugby" tee-shirt with a logo on the breast pocket; baggy khaki shorts with large pockets near the bottom; short, white socks covered in blue-and-white tennis shoes. Examining himself in the mirror, Alex realized something: he'd forgotten the gem. "Dammit!" he cried, ducking back behind the mirror; he emerged moments later wearing the trenchcoat from before and carrying a pair of black mirror sunglasses. He looked in the mirror, pulled up his collar, and pocketed his sunglasses before darting off towards the building itself.

Alex had chosen this site for his hideout because of its inaccessibility to anybody else. The police thought no one could get in here, but Alex had managed without much trying. He'd managed to find a secret cavern underneath a stack of boards that was large enough for him to hide everything he'd stolen; hell, Alex had stocked it with enough supplies for him to be able to last in there for a few days, maybe even a week if he rationed himself properly. The only problem was that the police were partially right: the cavern was practically inaccessible, requiring Alex to navigate the maze of girders that had been put into place for the building to get to the unfinished central park area, where the cavern had been excavated to serve as the foundation of a gazebo or something. It was difficult, particularly since his muscles always ached from rugby. Still, he'd managed to find an easy route that minimized the pain and complexity.

As Alex climbed up the unfinished building, he began to wonder how he was going to survive without his parents. Then he remembered his parents had given him a video of their recent outing at a local amusement park, and Alex had simply slipped it into the pocket of his trenchcoat for safekeeping. He could feel its weight pulling the trenchcoat down ever-so-slightly, and he realized that to him, the information contained on that video (his parents' faces, their voices, the memories and good times they shared) were more valuable to Alex than any emerald. But that emerald, the video, and the picture were all he had to remember them by…they were no longer there. The moments…the memories…the laughter…the accidents…the caring personal conversations…there would be no more of that. Stopping upon a ledge, Alex started to cry.

"Pull yourself together, man. You just have to move on. If you let this get to you so much, you'll break down and lose the will to live, and you know that suicide is for weak idiots. You'll just have to put aside your theft hobby and live the rest of your life exactly as your parents would have wanted you to." His touching speech to himself finished, Alex decided to rechristen himself then and there. His general knowledge being as extensive as it was, he decided to give himself a new name based on what sort of character he had become. He tried to describe himself: ruthless, cold, hurt by his past, completely uncaring as to others' perception of him (somewhat), incredibly powerful and wealthy (well, not incredibly so, but wealthy and powerful enough)…one name came to mind. Edward Rochester, the "antagonist" of the novel Jane Eyre. The name fit him perfectly; it was unusual, harsh, and very-well fitting, since Rochester actually fit all of the characteristics about himself. Deciding to call himself Edward Rochester Alexander (leaving his last name intact as a tribute to his parents), he silently reflected upon the one thing that happened to Rochester that he hoped would never happen to him: during a fire, Rochester suffered an accident that blinded him and destroyed the great life he had built for himself. Alex (henceforth desiring to be called by his middle name) pondered this for a moment before the platform gave way beneath, causing him to fall a few feet and hit his head on a girder. He passed out, never to awaken again in this world.

Next chapter: Alex, now Rochester, is visited by Celebi and Jirachi and offered a strange choice that will decide his fate…