Chapter 1: An Innocent Mistake
The phone was ringing. The phone on the other end of my bedroom was ringing. The phone on the other end of my bedroom was ringing at three in the morning. Very loudly .
Grumbling, I heaved myself up from the enticing warmth of my pillow, crawled over Simon's sleeping form, and shambled over to the phone. I had almost made it to my desk when I stepped on a rug I couldn't remember buying.
Comet shot awake with a piercing yowl, flames curling under his teeth, and ran out from under me. Not a rug. Comet was sleeping on the floor. Since when did Comet sleep on the floor?
The indecision over whether to first apologize to my injured ninetales or answer the bleeping phone made the sound-induced pressure headache I was already nursing get even worse. Comet, no longer yowling but glowing vaguely with anger and what looked like and impending ember attack, was standing in the corner of my bedroom, tailed flared.
"Fine, I'll answer the phone first," I slurred to Comet, and picked up the phone.
An all-too-peppy voice on the other end chirped "Is this Hester Thompson?"
An all-too-tired me moaned "Yeeess."
"We have your first shipment ready," Chirpy chirped chirpily. "They're all from Route 102, and have all passed their health exams. You can pick them up whenever you're ready."
"Great. Thanks." I spat, and slapped the phone down. I hadn't even started, and I already hated my job. Disturbing me at three in the morning to tell me the exact minute my new charges had arrived, what was the benefit of this? They had all the information they needed to know that no one in my team could teleport, did they really expect me to ride Ricky over there and start training before the sun had even risen? No. Just no.
The mental ranting had woken me up a bit, and in my newfound consciousness I remembered having stepped on the tails of a certain very easily offended ninetales. Comet was still spark-pouting in the corner, so I tottered over to the shelf where I kept the Comet-apology treats and fumbled among books and knick knacks until my hands touched the box. I rolled the numbers 7, 4, 3, and 8 into place, and pulled out one of Comet's favorite flavor of treat. After scrambling the combination twice, I put the box back and placed the treat a few feet in front of my smoldering pokemon. Once the scent of persim and cheri hit his nostrils, the beef he'd had with me was forgotten and the treat devoured.
I couldn't help but smile a bit. Comet had a habit of making gluttony look adorable. "Try not to lick the floor too much, the varnish is bad for you." I smirked. Comet, who had been doing just that, looked up at me and grinned wolfishly.
"Who say!"
"It'll make your stomach hurt, and you might throw up that tasty treat of yours. And," I added, "if you puke it out, I'm not letting you eat it again, so don't get any ideas."
Comet cocked his head to deliberate on whether he felt like listening to his trainer. He seemed to agree this time, and with a graceful leap that was impressively quiet for his size, jumped on the spot where I'd spent the last few hours cultivating the perfect bed groove temperature, lay down, and closed his eyes.
Fine then. I guess I'm sleeping in the middle again.
As I crawled into bed and drifted back to sleep, I wondered if Comet would consider moving his sleeping space to the floor permanently. My bed had been feeling kind of crowded lately.