a/n: This is a sister piece to Finding the Path, and so will be a series of Gold/Silver moments centered around each Pokemon in Gold's team. I think game!Gold/Silver is Huntershipping rather than Preciousmetalshipping.

I want to write more about Gold because it's hard to flesh out a character who isn't really a character, given that he's literally, well, me. As in, me the player of SoulSilver. I don't think Gold - aka myself - takes life nearly as seriously as Silver does (who does?), so maybe these will be lighter and sillier than Finding the Path.

contains: original character Gold based on HG/SS, Gold/Silver romance - Huntershipping, some swearing.

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Feraligatr

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Gold liked battling. He hadn't been into this whole "being a trainer" thing very long, it being less than a day since he'd received his first Pokemon in his very own shiny Pokeball. But it had been pretty good so far.

It was lucky, then, that his Pokemon agreed with him, even if the little guy bit him in protest and puffed itself up in indignant anger whenever Gold said anything to him. Totodile also liked battling, even if right now the battles Totodile liked best were the battles against Gold's hands, legs and face. Gold was asking for it, Totodile reasoned. He liked calling Totodile cute and huggable. How awful.

(Gold wasn't too worried. He'd been bitten and hit and elbowed in protest by just about everyone in New Bark Town, often twice in ten minutes on his particularly loud days.)

The rush of adrenaline, watching his partner Totodile take down another squawking Pidgey – that proud feeling of accomplishment as Totodile finally learned that water jet squirting technique after hours of encouragement and exercises – that warm fuzzy comfort of Totodile headbutting his legs in celebration after each battle… it was pretty good so far.

Even if Totodile's headbutting was often not so much fuzzy and comforting as it was painful and sandpaper-rough. Gold supposed it was the thought that counted.

(Totodile had been, of course, really aiming for the 'painful and sandpaper-rough type of headbutt to show him that I'm boss', but his efforts were sadly wasted.)

"Water gun!" shouts Gold, waving his arms. Totodile stomps the ground and spits up about a gallon of water onto the Chikorita's head.

"Chiko!" she says happily, rolling around in the spray.

"To…!?" Totodile glares at Gold. WHY DID YOU MAKE ME DO THAT, LOOK, NOW WE'RE LOSING, MORON, he attempts to say with his narrowed eyes.

"Whoops," says Gold, shrugging. The other trainer snorts in disgust. "Don't worry! Go for a scratch next time she comes close!"

"Chikori kori?" asks the Chikorita as she comes in to tackle Totodile. "Kori kori?" To Totodile's angry confusion, she is beaming in a charming and not at all aggressive or threatening way.

"Toto…" grumbles Totodile. "Dile!" I'm alright, thanks… but we're battling, idiot!

"Ko!" says Chikorita, knocking him off the ground. (She's still beaming.)

"Hey! I think she's trying to distract you!" shouts Gold. "Er… Totodile… scratch? Oh wait, water gun? Maybe?"

"Shut the hell up and get on with the battle," snarls the other trainer.

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yes. Shut up, loser."

"Woah woah woah, I think we can agree that I am not, aha, a loser," says Gold. He poses dramatically for effect. "I'm a pretty cool guy. What's your name, anyway?"

"Watch your weak Pokemon," says the other trainer with a sneer. He pointedly does not shake Gold's outstretched hand, and even more pointedly does not go in for the friendly man hug that would have inevitably followed (because Gold likes hugs).

"Totodile isn't weak," says Gold, turning back to face the battle, "are you?" He is greeted with the sight of the bouncy Chikorita landing a leafy – and painful-looking – finishing move on the Pokemon in question.

"To… todile…"

"You and your Pokemon are both weak," mutters the other trainer. "It's a waste of time, battling you." He returns the Chikorita to a Pokeball and stands there, evidently waiting for Gold to get out of his way.

"C'mon, I just met Totodile this morning! If we trained for a couple more days, I bet we could kick your ass." His words are braver than he feels. Gold gently picks up Totodile, who squeaks and winces in pain. Now what is he meant to do, bring him to the Pokemon Centre in his arms? Or return him to a Pokeball? Should he get out a quick-heal potion? Painkillers? Did he need antiseptic? Should he call a Pokeambulance? Maybe he should call Professor Elm.

For the first time that day, Gold feels… overwhelmed. He'd been leading Totodile on for the whole morning, being the right kind of encouraging and inspiring that had persuaded the whole village of New Bark to put their hopes in him as a fledgling trainer, and now… what? Where did he take it from here?

"Can you help?" he says to the other trainer. "I don't know what to do."

The other trainer scowls, judging him through angry eyes. "… just put him in a Pokeball and get to a centre when you can," he mutters. "It's not my fault you can't even take care of a baby like him."

Gold fumbles for a Pokeball and returns the injured Totodile. "Cool, thanks."

"What a waste of time," grumbles the other trainer. Gold didn't have time to react before he is shoved aside and flung into a bush, Totodile's Pokeball flying out of his hand.

"Ow," he says to no-one in particular, since the Chikorita-trainer obviously isn't in any mood to listen. Gold flails a little, disentangling himself from the bush. Then he picks up Totodile's Pokeball.

There is something shiny next to it – a card, probably a driving license or trainer ID. Name: Silva-

"Give that back!" snarls a voice surprisingly close to Gold's right ear.

"Jesus!" yelps Gold. "You scared me. Here you go, alright? Just leave me alone!"

The trainer glares.

"Please don't hit me," Gold adds.

He sits up and watches the Chikorita-trainer flounce off in an angry red-haired huff. It's exactly the kind of flounce that would have suited a hormonal catwalk model who secretly dreamt of being a fat Italian bouncer at a mafia-run strip club.

"I'd pay to see that on a catwalk," he says aloud to Totodile's ball.

Totodile - understandably - doesn't reply.

Oh well. This is really no time for speculation. He needs to get Totodile to the Pokecentre.

Time to take the first steps.

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My Feraligatr is called Diluvan. I normally call my Pokemon things like Hooker or Slutface, so I AM SO MATURE.