The Championship Dance was a mess. A horrible, crowded, silken mess reeking of over-priced lavender perfume. He could barely walk, much less dance, without tripping over some important higher-up's dress or trailing tails.

Why did men insist on wearing tailcoats? This isn't Unova's experimental district, people, and all the statement they're going to make is a ragged puddle of black, wasted silk on the floor by the end of the night.

So, for fear that he'd trip on all those over-long tailcoats, all Steven had been doing for the last two hours was standing discreetly by the buffet table, snacking on tiny sandwiches and puff pastries. After eating a tray and a half of snacks, he could feel his own tail-less suit getting a little tight.

Two hours and the guest of honour wasn't even here yet.

The Championship Dance was held every time—you guessed it—a new Champion is named. Here the region accepts the Champion, and the Champion likewise accepts their new responsibilities in running the League and the region both. His own was a harrowing night filled to the brim with 'stylish' upper-class, low-level trainers who thought they somehow knew more about Pokémon than he, the brand-new Champion of Hoenn. Steven preferred to be alone, both with his gem collecting and with his training, and to be thrust into the spotlight again and again was not his favourite thing. It was one of the many reasons why he was more than eager to hand the socially demanding duties of a Champion to a sixteen-year-old girl.

Five more minutes, he thought for the fifteenth time that hour. Give her five more minutes. She doesn't come, I'll leave, simple as that.

Five minutes later, she didn't come, and for the fifteenth—no, sixteenth now—time that hour, he started to make his way to the door, only to stop three trays down the buffet table and continue eating.

Five more minutes, he thought again, and moved to another tray of sandwiches.

Five more minutes.

Where in Arceus' green earth was she? One can't be the Champion without one's whereabouts being known by everyone and their Wurmple, Steven knew that better than anybody. Missing a social event, especially as big an event as this, was almost heresy.

So where was May, two-and-a-half hours into her first ball? The gentle-peoples were going to throw a fit.

Five more minutes, he thought for the final time. He was leaning on the end of the buffet tables, anyway, and if he stayed much longer he would have an old-person riot on his hands.

Three, he counted down, shoving a sandwich in his mouth.

Two, his voice echoed in his mind, followed by a sip of wine.

One. Steven sighed into his glass and shoved his weight off the table, taking another sandwich for good measure. A quick one-two-hide-behind-the-fancy-curtains manoeuvre later, and he was out the door unseen.

The moon was out, the night cool, the stars bright. It was a re-lief to be outside. Why weren't more people out here, enjoying the sea-tinged Eterna City night air? He'd been all over Hoenn, Johto, Kanto and Sinnoh, and he'd never once found air quite as pure as it was here in Eterna City. Instead, all those 'trainers' were stuck inside, breathing each other's carbon dioxide and pretending to still be in their prime. He took a bite of his sandwich as he strolled along, eyes on the stars.

"Steven?"

The voice was high pitched and kind, ending in that upwards lilt of a question and the barest hint of a stutter. Steven knew that voice; oh, he knew it well.

May was startlingly beautiful in her dress—a red, traditional Johto number to match her usual outfit. She had her bandana with her, although it was on her wrist instead of her head, adding to the sense that despite her being present, she didn't think the ball that big a deal. It was perhaps a bit casual for so fancy an occasion, and Steven loved every inch of it.

Steven himself, however, was a little less impressive. Of course he had to run into what was quite possibly the prettiest woman he'd ever seen with half a sandwich hanging out his mouth. Of course he did.

"M-May! I…I didn't think you were, uh, coming," he managed, trying to chew and swallow his sandwich before getting his reply out. "It's so late. The party's beginning to wind down, and all the good desserts are gone—not to mention the wine, too, that's gone…too." Stones alive, he was an idiot when caught unawares.

She stared at his choking, spluttering self a moment before laughing. Not a light, girlish giggle or a musical tinkle of bells or some over-romanticized crap, but a throaty, loud laugh that echoed through the city, creating it's own sort of choir. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes squinted funny, and she doubled over, laughing hysterically all the while.

"What's so funny?" he asked, a little affronted.

"You!" she gasped, going red in the face and doubling back over. "I've never seen you so…so…Entei's sacred flames!"
"What?"

"Flustered! You had a sandwich hanging out your—"

"What's wrong with eating a sandwich?" He asked, his voice rising defensively.

"Nothing, nothing! I mean, doesn't everyone walk around with their stolen sandwiches hanging out their mouths?" She asked, straightening up. Her face was red, her smile crooked and toothy, her shoulders still shaking with suppressed laughter, and Steven had never seen a sight more beautiful than her, right here and now.

Arceus, he thought, this girl is going to be the end of me.

"You mean you don't? I thought everyone did. Honest," he said, and shook his head at her in mock anger.

"You're such a dork, Steven. Such a dork," she said, continuing down the path to the dance.
"I am not!" he muttered. She continued on her way past him, her short Johto dress swaying with her hips, and he glowered at her back.

"Are you coming, Steven, or are you going to stand there sulking all night?" she called back to him, looking back over her shoulder as she strode away. "I hear they have really great sandwiches at my party."