Gut feeling had a lot to answer for, really. When it was wrong, it convinced you that it was right, and when it was right it called your bluff. Yeah. Gut feeling was a right pain.
So it was no wonder that the set of eight people sat in the private jet were confused. Guts argued with guts. Feelings with feelings. Rights with wrongs. Leaders with leaders. And when the company consisted of the eight Leaders of the insubstantial region of Johto, there were a lot of arguments. Not, however, from the people you'd expect.
Hot-headed and quick to snap Clair was silent throughout the journey, staring out of the window of the eight-seater (surprisingly) jet while drumming her fingers on her table. Whatever her gut feeling was saying, she was blatantly ignoring it. She preferred instinct, and to her the two were completely different. You react to instinct, but you only waste time considering gut feeling. Beside her Pryce, the Leader of Ice was also silent, staring straight at bodybuilder Chuck who was yelling his opinion in the matter, Whitney next to him joining in.
"This meeting is going to be the end of us all! They're going to fire us, I know it!" Whitney pouted, eyes welling up and close to tears. Chuck was insisting on bellowing his opinions, rather than voicing them, and Clair couldn't help but clamp a hand over the ear closest to him.
"After all, what else would the Elite want with us?"
"We've had meetings in the past, to discuss environmental issues and the like," Pryce's cold voice cut across quietly, sharp enough to make Chuck pause in his rants. A pause long enough for Clair to mutter to herself.
"Not when they've disappeared for this long.."
All eyes turned to her then, and she wondered just how loudly she had muttered. Pryce touched her arm lightly, but she shrugged him off. They all knew her cousin had suddenly ceased contact with her approximately six months ago, and when people had asked Janine the same was said for her father. Same time, no contact. It was worrying. Nobody knew of the other three Elites, but they guessed it would be the same.
"I guess that-"
"I see it!" Bugsy leapt out of his seat and pointed past the front of the craft, down towards an island in the sea. Pryce's frown matched that of the bluenette beside him. The Plateau wasn't on an island... Just where the hell were they going?
It was a grand building - at least six floors, huge gardens and a quay that went along the sea, a runway down the side for the rapidly decreasing aircraft and a lake. The island almost looked like a private village, aside from the fact that there was only one house. The building was painted a dark crimson, with great glass windows all over. Mahogany double doors were at the end of a long path under rose arches and flanked by flower patches of bright colours. The place seemed benign enough, so why did Clair feel her gut screaming at her not to get odd the plane when it landed? Mentally she punched it, smirking slightly when it whined
and shut up. At least she didn't talk to herself. That form of insanity was saved for the other member in her family.
The landing was smooth, for once, and soon everyone was piling out. Falkner's eagle eyes looked through the cockpit, and he drew a breath that he wouldn't let the others hear. It was empty. Nobody had flown them. The Magnet Train was the same.. But a plane? There were no set tracks! He decided to keep his discovery to himself.
Jasmine appeared to be examining the flowers on one of the rose archways, but everyone knew she was really studying the steel framing supporting it. Bugsy had pulled a face at the fact he couldn't see any bugs on the flowers, but as Morty pointed out, if you had put so much care into your garden, you wouldn't want bug pokemon destroying them. Slowly, the group made their way down the long path, taking in their surroundings in awe. It was when Morty pointed towards the door people started to gasp.
A silver haired woman with the figure you'd expect of a super model stood in the doorway, hands behind her back. She wore a rather short-nearing-indecent strapless dress in a gaudy yellow, and high heeled ankle boots. Behind her, in the shadows of the doors, yellow rings glowed and faded, signifying an Umbreon there. That identified the woman as Karen, the fourth of the Elite Four. A couple of the men seemed to stare at her as they got closer, and some of the girls felt jealousy creeping in.
"Welcome to our humble abode," her honey-like voice rang clearly over the ensemble as they stopped just before the doors, looking at her expectantly. "We apologise for the abrupt call of our meeting, but we didn't have any other choice."
"What's the meeting about?" Whitney's voice was forcibly cuter than normal, as if she was trying to compete with Karen. She was also the one most concerned that this meeting was to fire them, so her question was not without reason. The Dark Master laughed, a sickly high sound.
"All details will be revealed later. First - let me show you to your rooms."
A ripple of agreement went through the party, and they filed through the doors behind Karen and her Umbreon. Only Falkner noticed the sunlight glinting off steel threads across the windows. Steel that could cut. Why he didn't voice his observations, he didn't know.
The men were given the second floor, two to a room, and the girls the third floor with Karen. Well, girls referring to Jasmine and Whitney. Karen stopped Clair before she could go in.
"Sorry sweetie, but we haven't got enough rooms for you too, so would you mind sharing with your cousin?"
"I don't mind sleeping on the floor-"
"I'm sure you don't mind /sharing with your cousin/. He's on the top floor."
With that, Karen giggled and called out that she would collect everyone when it was time to eat, leaving Clair to make her way up the stairs on her own. Huffing she shifted her bag on her shoulders and started on the trek up the stairs. Her stomach was doing flips inside. She hadn't spoken to him in half a year, and it had been even longer since she saw him in person. Four excruciatingly long staircases later, she came to his floor. The door was at the top of the stairs. Hesitantly she knocked and entered.
Why should she be nervous of Lance? Maybe because he was bipolar, had a temper and attitude as red as his hair, suffering from a progressive mental disorder and could make a grown woman fall to her knees with a smile. Oh, yeah, also he was the most powerful man, trainer-wise and politically, in two regions. That might just explain it.
So seeing him lounging on a sofa with a cooking book, one leg draped over the arm of the chair, wasn't what she expected. He didn't even notice her until he turned the page, raising his shocking amber eyes to meet her bright blue ones. Behind the book, he smiled, although the gesture never touched his eyes. Nothing ever did. She was surprised at how empty they seemed now, how much the madness had taken over him. Saying that, he had been silent while reading, not talking to himself.
"Clair."
"Lance."
"Your bed's over there." He jerked his head to where two double beds were, touching at the sides because of the lack of room at that end of the floor, both covered in satin sheets and plenty of pillows. Clair's throat closed. Not even a "I've missed you" or anything. Silently, she went over to her designated area and started to unpack. The only noise was the turning of crisp pages covered in recipes.
A/N: Sorry it's so short. I wrote this on my ipod and it looked HUGE. I'll try and put more in later.
