AN: So I decided to write a cheesy Christmas story! I tried to make it humorous, so enjoy! Sorry if the characters are a bit off. I kind of wrote this in a sudden flash of inspiration.
Merry Christmas!
Dawn scurried into the Team Galactic Headquarters in Veilstone at 2:00 on Christmas Eve. The day was cold and cloudy, but no snow had fallen yet. Despite the gloomy sky, however, she was elated; Christmas was tomorrow.
She pushed inside and skipped up to the counter. Humming, she handed a paper to Velma, the secretary.
"What's this?" she asked, acid tinting her words. Dawn knew that most of the grunts did not like her, but she was trying not to glare, and for that she was grateful.
"It's for Cyrus," she said cheerfully, giving her a bright grin. "He'll know what to do with it."
With that, she skipped off to go beat the Elite Four one more time before Christmas.
Cyrus had just sat down in his office when someone knocked at the door. Sighing hugely, he got up to answer it.
"What?" he asked when he opened the door. It was that secretary.
"This is for you," she said, and handed him the single page.
"Thanks," he said, then closed the door.
He scrutinized the page, feeling slightly surprised. It was from Dawn, and addressed "Santa Baby." Quickly, his eyes scanned down. It was a list, four items.
The nerve, he thought. To give him a list on Christmas Eve! There was no way he would be able to get any of this pointless stuff, not with everyone and their brother at the Veilstone Department store!
No, it wasn't even a question. He was not going shopping. He put the Christmas list on the far corner of his desk and turned his attention to a more pertinent document…
But found his eyes moving back to the slim list. It was only four things. And truth be told, he probably owed Dawn something. She had saved him; from destroying this world and himself, and had coaxed him out of the Distortion World to head up Team Galactic again. It was the least he could do, really.
He picked up the list, this time really reading it. He had to read the first item once, and then again. A sable. A fur coat. Where in Sinnoh would he find one of those?
Come to think of it, there was a little coat shop in the Sunyshore market. He stood up immediately and swept out of the office.
"Hey, boss!" Saturn said as he stepped out into the hallway. "Where are you going?"
"Sunyshore. You are in charge."
Cyrus left.
The Sunyshore marketplace was so crowded it was unbelievable. Did everyone wait until the last minute to buy gifts?
Cyrus tried not to become irritated as he pushed past people. "Excuse me," he said, about every other second, until he reached the little stand he was looking for. Nerves on end because he hated crowds and hated people, he put his hands on the counter. "Could somebody help me?!" he directed the question to the older, pudgy woman behind the glass.
"What is it?" she asked, frowning deeply as she drifted over.
"I require a fur coat."
She looked up him and down. "You look pretty warm already."
"Believe me, this is not for me," he said, trying to imagine himself wearing a fur coat. He shivered at the horrible idea.
"You just said you needed one."
"You misunderstand, I—whatever." He leaned closer. "I am searching for one for…a girlfriend. I demand you show me your coats, now."
"Wow," she said sarcastically. "You must be a real charmer."
Exasperated, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have one or not?"
She crossed her arms and shook her head. "All out."
"What—" he threw a hand up to the sign hanging above their heads. "What kind of establishment do you run?! What kind of coat shop is out of coats?!"
She gestured colorfully towards his uniform. "What kind of alternate-energy-source organization tries to destroy the world?!"
Cyrus gritted his teeth in anger. "I am done with you." That being said, he turned around and weaved his way back into the crowd.
"Good!" he heard the woman shout. "Maybe you'll be done with the world next!"
Well, it seemed as if Dawn would not get the first item. So what was the second?
He read, "A really shiny Pokémon, too—light blue" and sighed. He would need assistance for this one.
And so back to Veilstone. It took him all of ten minutes. Ah, the joy of flying Pokémon.
He busted through the doors of the Veilstone Headquarters. His three commanders—Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, looked up.
"You're all off," he said, without preamble. "Everyone is off."
Velma gasped. "Whoa! No way!"
"Make the announcement." Cyrus continued. "You three—" he turned to his commanders—"I need your assistance."
They exchanged glances. Mars shrugged. "Sure," she said. "What's up, boss?"
"Come with me," he said, and turned back around. They were out of the building in seconds.
"Alright, boss," Jupiter said as she finished up yet another battle with a Ponyta, "Could you explain to me what we're doing again?!"
"Yeah," Mars said, coming over. "I can't even remember the mission."
The Team Galactic Command was standing out in a large patch of waist-tall grass by Lake Valor. It was freezing cold now, and misting. The grass in front of their leader rustled. "Silence," Cyrus said, holding up a hand.
A wild Ponyta leapt out, red mane and tail flickering and flashing. Not the right kind of wild Ponyta.
"Nevermind," Cyrus said, and turned around, not even bothering to end the battle. He swept by the dumbfounded women.
"Boss!" Jupiter protested. "Aren't you going to answer?"
"I already told you," he said. "We're searching for a shiny Ponyta."
"Why on Earth a Ponyta?!" Jupiter cried, trailing as he stomped determinedly into another patch.
He stopped and turned. "Because," he said, as if he were explaining it well, "They're light blue."
"What?!" Jupiter yelled, voice jumping a couple of octaves, "That doesn't even make sense! We've been out her for two hours!"
"Boss!" Saturn called from some distance. "Don't you think this is a bit far-fetched?"
Cyrus looked from Mars to Jupiter. There was a long string of rustles before Saturn met up with them.
"This is a pretty improbable mission," Cyrus admitted. For a moment, he wondered what had gotten into him. Had he lost his mind?
The three let out a collective sigh of relief.
"Thank you, God!" Mars said, looking up to the clouds, "He had mercy on us!"
He shook his head. "Let's go back."
It was now 6:00 in the evening. Cyrus walked back into his office before taking Dawn's Christmas list out again. When he read the next thing on it, he couldn't help but groan and put a palm to his forehead.
The deed?! He lived in an apartment. He didn't even own a deed! What on Earth was this girl thinking…But there was more. He squinted at the little writing underneath number three. "To a platinum mine," it added helpfully.
To Oreburgh it was.
Cyrus had never even been in Oreburgh mine. He had been pointed this direction by a cheerful sign on the gym door—"Off to the mine!-Roark."
This place was dark. And quiet. There were no sounds of work and no sources of light save for some scattered lights attached to the walls.
A perfect place to gather one's thoughts, he thought. And then: I think I'm lost.
Suddenly the sound of humming filled the empty space. The tune was Jingle Bells and stopped Cyrus in his tracks.
Someone rounded the corner and was walking toward him. Cyrus reached to cover his eyes, because whoever it was wore a headlamp.
"Cyrus?" Roark asked. "What are you doing here?"
He stopped, turning off his headlamp now that he was standing under another one, and waited.
"Does this mine, by chance, have platinum?"
"Sure it does," Roark said warily, fixing his glasses. "Why…?"
Cyrus, reluctant to say, put his head in his hands. "This is going to sound very stupid."
"Come on," Roark protested. "You're an evil mastermind. Well, were. Anyway, I've probably heard dumber."
"Alright," he said slowly. "I want to buy it."
Roark's mouth dropped open. He stumbled back a couple of steps. Cyrus suddenly expected him to go into cardiac arrest. "What? Why?"
Cyrus gazed steadily away. "I'm trying to buy a present for someone."
"You, buy a present?" Roark huffed a laugh. "Well, it's not going to be my mine! This is my pride and joy. My first child wouldn't be worth more!"
Cyrus crossed his arms. "Are you sure? Your first child…?"
The long red-haired gym leader was now waving him off. "Get out," he urged, mockingly. "Go on, get!"
Anger suddenly flared up in his chest. Cyrus clenched his teeth and threw a punch at the guy's nose.
"Argh!" Roark cried out, hand flying up to his nose to stop the blood gushing out. "Why did you do that?!"
"I'm an evil mastermind." Cyrus said simply, spun on his heel, and left.
It was 11:00 when Cyrus arrived back in his apartment, dark and raining. In his stomach he felt a vague sense of disappointment as he slipped inside. Four items on the list, just four. And he couldn't find a single one of them.
He didn't even turn on a light or get changed before lying down in bed, on top of the covers. For a while, he just stared at the ceiling fan with his hands laced behind his head wondering why he even cared. Dawn was just a girl, but…
Suddenly, something dawned on him. He flew up and turned on the lamp that sat beside his bed, quickly drawing the list out of his pocket. Four items. He'd tried to find three, but he'd forgotten about the fourth.
For some reason, his fingers shook as he unfolded the paper. "Number Four:" he read at last. "A ring. And I don't mean on the phone!"
He slammed the paper down on the nightstand and stood up. Within minutes, every light in the apartment was blazing.
A ring, a ring, a ring.
Where the hell was the ring?
Cyrus was generally a very organized man. As a rule, he loathed disorganized things. But that was before he met Dawn, and now he was tearing through his orderly drawers and making quite the disorder. It was three in the morning, and he was searching for the ring his grandmother had given him ages ago.
He knew he had it. For the longest time, it had been sitting in the same spot, waiting to go to the Veilstone Pawn Shop. So where was it now?
At four-o-clock, Cyrus was actually pulling entire drawers out of the dressers and emptying their contents. He sat beside one full of clothes, taking out every individual article.
He had been so close to selling that thing. It had meant nothing. The best time to pawn a ring was during the day—
He put a pair of pants down and groaned.
—While he was at work. He worked with Pokémon, so—
He stood up and swept into the kitchen.
—The most logical place to put it—
Cyrus picked up his discarded belt of pokeballs. He sighed. Of course. He'd given the Masterball to Dawn.
The next morning, promptly at 8:00, Dawn burst through the apartment door.
"Good morning, Cyrus!" the navy-haired girl sang. She skipped happily into the kitchen, where he was cooking breakfast, and dropped a wrapped box and her backpack on the counter. Cyrus almost twitched…He'd spent the rest of his night—or morning—making the place tidy again.
"Merry Christmas!" she cried, hugging him from behind, and this time he really did twitch. "What's for breakfast?"
"Oatmeal," he answered.
"Hm, that's about what I expected!" She broke off the hug and went into the living room to turn on the television. Usually this place was quiet. It was so much louder with Dawn.
One he was done making breakfast, he dished the oatmeal into two bowls. Huh. Inadvertently, he had cooked for two.
"Have this," he said, handing her a warm bowl and a spoon. He took his own and sat down at his tiny wooden table—and Dawn sat across from him, a second later.
"I faced the Elite Four yesterday," she said between bites.
"Again?" he deadpanned. She had already beaten them twice. Despite her demeanor, Dawn was the most powerful trainer in Sinnoh.
"Yeah, I had presents for them. Like I have for you!"
"Hm." He said.
"Anyway, I beat them. I can't help but wonder why Lucian still uses Energy Ball on my Torterra." She paused a moment, looking up to meet his eyes. "Did you get my memo?"
"You mean, did I get the list? Yes." He paused to put down his spoon. "I must say, Dawn, that being the Head of Team Galactic is not the most lucrative of careers."
Her smile suddenly dropped and she looked very sad. "Did you not get me anything?"
His heart kind of lurched—a quite unfamiliar sensation. "No," he said, "I got you one thing. Look inside your backpack."
She looked confused. "My…backpack?"
He crossed his arms. "Do it," he said "Just do it."
So she went over to the counter and retrieved her backpack. "What am I looking for?" she called.
"The Masterball," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. He felt his ears heat. That, too, was unfamiliar.
"The Masterball? What about the…?" There was a soft clicking sound and a gasp.
"Oh!" she said. "Cyrus!"
He glanced up with she came over, wrapping her warm arms around his neck. "It's beautiful!" she said.
And indeed it was. He took a moment to admire it on her finger—the glinting of authentic diamond, surrounded by lines of amethyst.
She nuzzled her chin into his neck. "How'd you do that? Sneak it in?"
"It was always there," he answered. "It was yours all along."
Then, just as he was sure that there was something wrong with him, that it was impossible for one's heart to beat so erratically, Dawn kissed his cheek and stopped it completely. "Do you want to see your present?"
Cyrus tried to quickly regain his composure. He had to force his heart rate to return to normal. "Sure."
She darted over to the counter, picked up the box, wrapped neatly in green, and gave it to him. He inspected it for a moment, then carefully unwrapped it.
Inside the box was a good-sized snow globe, one with a tiny topographical map of Sinnoh inside. He lazily shook it, then set it down, watching as the flecks of white returned to the bottom.
"It's Sinnoh," she explained. "So you can destroy it if you want to."
His eyes shot to hers. He felt a shot of surprise, and…something else. Something he couldn't quite identify. Something that felt nice.
"Thank you," he said sincerely.
She stepped back. "So, Cyrus," she said. "Does this ring mean…?"
"No." he said, quickly, all business again.
She exhaled and smiled in relief. "Good." She said. "I sure wasn't ready." There was a slight pause, and she tilted her head to the side. "So, did you get me anything else on my list?"
"No." he said again, emphatically.
"Good," she said. "You know, it was a joke to begin with." She smiled at him and picked up her bowl. "If you need me I'll be in your living room watching TV."
Cyrus watched as she left the room. How infuriating she was! Coming into his apartment like this, letting him know now that the list was just a joke…
He picked up the snow globe, turned it upside down and shook vigorously. He placed it back on the table, then, and watched as the world righted itself once more.