Hi there! Glad you're taking the time to check this out. I've done a Pokemon story before (heh... *nerd*), but I'm afraid that one was an epic fail. BUT here we are again, months later and plus a few experience points in the world of FanFiction! So this, I hope, won't be a fail XD

Set in the game-world, since I'm just getting into the anime, with a quirky little ten-year old (who will grow up pretty fast) who likes fire types and pancakes...

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. If I did, Team Galactic/Rocket/whatever else they're called would be DEAD for murdering all those Magikarp... *froths at the mouth*

*ahem* Carry on.

x.X.x

I liked pancakes. I always had: ever since I was little, they'd been the one thing that got me out of bed every morning. Hey, they had some nutritional value! Not that I knew what that meant, but I had heard my parents joking about it as I wolfed down my breakfast and I thought it sounded cool. Plus, it was fun to pretend that I knew more than my best friend, Lucy.

Who, by the way, had started her journey as a Pokemon trainer a full week ago. I was pretty sure I had died at least four times in the past seven days just from thinking about it. She must be in Jubilife by now! Or maybe Oreburgh, or Eterna, or…well, I didn't know what came after that. They only teach you so much in Pokemon Training School, you know.

But enough about that. Today was my birthday-my tenth birthday, to be exact. And everyone knew what happened on that magical day.

That was also why I was up even before my nose had started twitching from the smell of pancake batter slowly turning fluffy and syrup being warmed up by my mom's Flareon. She'd been a trainer, too, when she was younger. When I was a little kid she would tell me lots of stories about her adventures and accidentally evolving her Eevee into a Flareon rather than a Glaceon. Then she'd met my dad, and…well, it all went downhill from there, in my opinion.

Still, that was why I knew so much about Eevee and its evolutions. Glaceon, Leafeon, Flareon, Umbreon, Espeon, Vaporeon, and Jolteon-the best Pokemon ever. Ever. Ever, ever, ever, in all the history of Pokemon and mankind, those were the best.

And that was what I was going to get for my birthday. Or hoped I was, anyway. My little Eevee would be the best one ever (even better than the other best-Pokemon-evers), even if I was still having trouble deciding on what to evolve it into. I had been not-so-subtly dropping hints for the past couple of months that pointed toward which Pokemon I wanted for my tenth birthday, since both my parents had promised to get me one. Unless you were called specially by Professor Oak-and that was rare-you either had to rely on your parents to get you a Pokemon for your birthday or catch one yourself. Most people got one for their birthday.

"Celeste! Breakfast!" Dad's voice echoed up the stairs, along with his Growlithe bouncing into my room and pouncing onto the bed. I grinned and got up, patting my legs and racing it down the steps. I nearly knocked into my father's huge frame-well, huge to a ten-year-old-standing at the foot of the stairs. His face broke into a wide smile, picking me up and swinging me around the kitchen with his little puppy Pokemon nipping at his heels.

"There's the birthday girl!" Mom answered with a laugh as my dad set me down. "Ten years…my, my, you're getting old!"

"Yep!" I answered proudly, puffing my chest out. I could act immature for a little while longer, after all-even I knew that it was all business with Pokemon training. My mother smiled and set a plate of Eevee-shaped pancakes on the table in front of me, and I drowned them in syrup and chomped down. For a few minutes there was regular table-talk, with me trying (as tactfully as I possibly could) to move the conversation along to my Pokemon. But Mom and Dad seemed to be stubbornly set on the pros and cons of having an all-fire team as opposed to an all-flying type team, and were ignoring my attempts at changing the topic. Though I normally would have found it funny that neither were making any real attempts to defend flying-type-we all had a soft spot for fire-types, after all-after fifteen minutes I could stand it no more.

"So what about my Pokemon?" I burst out finally. Talk ceased, and I immediately regretted my interruption. So much for tact. Mom and Dad exchanged a look I was sure I wasn't supposed to see, and I resisted the impulse to put my hands on my hips and stare them both down.

"Well, honey," Mom hedged, shrugging. "We know you want an Eevee, but…" At her pause, my mind went into overdrive. Okay, so Eevee was probably out if the infamous "but" was involved. So maybe a cool Chimchar…or a Charmander…or a Torchic… Maybe I'd even get a Vulpix-which looked pretty much like an Eevee-and I could evolve it into the best Ninetales ever (maybe even cooler than all the other Pokemon on my best-ever list). And then I could catch an Eevee and then raise it into the best Pokemon ever.

I looked at my parents, already having cheered myself up, and tilted my head to the side as Dad picked up the conversation where Mom had trailed off.

"The only Eevee we could find that hadn't already been sold was ridiculously overpriced, though we tried as hard as we could to bargain." My father shrugged helplessly, and again Mom continued for him.

"So we got you something I think you'll like. You used to love these Pokemon, remember?"

I racked my brains for Pokemon that I used to love. Please let it be a Vulpix, please be a Vulpix, please be a Vulpix… I thought, praying to Dialga and Ho-Oh and Mespirit and Azelf and Uxie and whatever other Legendary that might be watching me. With a Vulpix I could play around with it and keep it out of its Pokeball like my mom and dad did, and then evolve it into a Ninetales and burn any Pokemon that stood in my way to a crisp. I had almost convinced myself that my little fox was waiting inside as Mom took a Pokeball out from behind her back and put it in my hand.

I took a deep breath, having practiced my Pokeball-throw for weeks. I was still clumsy at it, and it wasn't nearly as dramatic as I wanted it to be: but hey, it was a start.

I gently tossed the Pokeball, unused to its new weight because of the little creature inside of it, and held my breath as red mist swirled around the sphere. A creature about waist-high rose up, and I felt my face fall as I realized it wasn't a Vulpix. What exactly it was, though, I certainly had no clue.

"Rio!" it chirped happily, bouncing on its tiptoes. "Lu! Rio!"

"I think we got very lucky," Mom said, smiling at the little…thing. "Riolu are very hard to find, in normal circumstances, but your father and I managed to find someone who was willing to trade for a Togetic."

"You traded Togetic?" was all I could ask. A Riolu? A Riolu? I knew they were rare, sure, but that didn't mean I automatically wanted one! When had I liked Riolu? It wasn't even part fire-type! It didn't even evolve into a fire type! It evolved into a Lucario! A steel and fighting type! I didn't even like steel types, and fighting types were just…weird. Besides, Lucario had always scared me. They were tall, regal, and they could read minds. Well…kind of. Emotions. Same thing.

"Well? What do you think?" I was yanked back to reality by Dad's voice, eyeing the little human-like Pokemon with something like affection. "He's a cute little guy, isn't he?"

"I wanted a Vulpix…" I mumbled. "Or an Eevee…anything but a Riolu…"

"Now, young lady, your mother and I worked hard to get you this little Pokemon, so you should be grateful. It could have been no Pokemon at all, you know."

"But I wanted a fire-type…" A Magmar! A Torchic! A Ponyta! Heck, I would have taken a Slugma at this point!

"Celeste, is that any way to thank your parents?" Mom's voice was getting firm, and I knew the parent talk was coming on. The one where they worked really hard and I was being very ungrateful and hurting this little Riolu's feelings and why couldn't I appreciate what I had because some people in the Hoenn region never saw a Pokemon in their entire life and blah blah blah. I was going to avoid that at all costs, so I huffed and muttered a low, "Thank you. I like it."

"'It' is a he, if you were planning on showing some respect for your new partner," Dad interjected. "Now, do you want to play a little with your Riolu?"

"No," I sighed. "I'll just go up to my room. Thanks." I thought that was the first time I had ever gone willingly up to my room. With my new fighting-type behind me. I could have had an Eevee bouncing at my heels or a Vulpix chasing its tails. But no. I was stuck with this Riolu. They weren't that rare, and I didn't understand why everyone just wanted the "rare" Pokemon anyway. Flareon were way cooler than Articuno.

And there went my type advantages, too. Fire Pokemon were awesome against nearly everything but water-types, and even then I could have gotten a grass-type or something to cover its back. I didn't even know what fighting-types were strong or weak to. I did know, though that I had absolutely nothing against a ghost-type. Great.

I don't think even pancakes could have cheered me up.

x.X.x

So that was that. REALLY short chapter, so sorry about that. (Most of my other chapters are around 4,000 to 5,000 words, so this is a bit of a change) ;)

And Celeste has a Riolu now! (which happen to be my favorite Pokemon *cough cough* Lucario, anyway)

So I do author notes a heckuva lot, and sometimes they get long and drawn-out. But mainly all I'm trying to say is review, tell me what you think, don't sugar coat, and keep readin'! ;D