Disclaimer: I DON'T own Pokémon, I just like insulting it, okay?
Ever wonder what Pokémon would be like in a murder mystery? Well, I have. That's why I wrote this fic. It's not a ships fic (unless you think of it that way), but there are some "references" throughout the fic. If you are not in high school, read at your own risk. If you are in high school, nothing should be new in this. Enjoy!!!
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It was a dark and stormy night...well, maybe not stormy, but it was definitely dark. I looked at the Felix wall clock across my office. 11:26. I figured she'd be late. I kicked back and crossed my feet on the desk. I looked at the second's hand of the clock. "5,4,3,2,1." I pointed at the door as she walked in almost as if on command.
"Misty, punctual as ever, I see." I motioned for her to sit down in the chair opposite me and put my hands behind my head.
"Sorry I'm late. The bartender kept wanting more." Misty uneasily smoothed some wrinkles in her incredibly mini skirt. Gotta love her. She's a looker and a hooker: a bad combination...wait a second, good combination, for me at least. "So, what's the big matter you couldn't discuss on the phone?" She kicked her legs up in the same position as mine, except for the crossed feet part. With her skirt incredibly short (even for a slut) she unwillingly exposed the fact that she forgot her thong at one of her last "client's" place. Noticing my attention was not where it should be, she pointed at her face and said, "Hello, I'm up here." She paused. "Is it a bit cold in here?"
I had to reposition my feet to block the sight. What I was about to tell her needed full concentration both ways, and not on body parts below the belt but above the thighs. "Do you want the straight up or sugar-coated explanation."
"Give it to me straight." She said finally realizing why she felt a chill. She put her feet on the floor to prevent any more unwanted attention.
"Lance is dead. Cause of death, bullet."
"Suicide?"
"No way. You see, recently the Elite's, past and present, have received unfriendly fan mail. The words were cut from newspaper and magazine articles with no fingerprints. The grammar and spelling was all wonky, so it'll be hard to get a lead."
"You're saying everyone got one?" She was starting to write down some things I said.
"Lorelie, Agatha, Bruno, all of them. I myself am surprised Agatha didn't have a heart attack as soon as she heard of Lance's death. What is she now? Two hundred ten?"
Without looking up from her notes, Misty answered. "Two hundred nine. Her birthday's tomorrow."
"Anyway, everyone got a little note, except Lance. He got a bullet sent Priority Mail to the back of his neck from one foot back."
"So that's why everyone tells us not to use FedEX." Misty finally looked up from her note-pad. "So, where do I fit into all of this?"
Ash got an evil smile on his face. "You're motivation. Since some of the men of the Elite's probably won't give me answers, I'll offer them a proposal. They give me what I want, which is answers. In return, you give them what they want." To make sure she got my point, I motioned a few pelvic thrusts into the air.
"I'm not getting paid enough for this." She let her head hang down and shook her head slowly.
"How does ten grand sound to you?"
Her head was up at the "ten grand" part of my sentence. "When do we leave?"
"Right now, Toots." I started to get up.
She grabbed the lamp on my desk and hit my on my head, sending me back to my chair. "I told you never to call me 'Toots'." She gently placed the lamp back on the desk then smoothed the wrinkles yet again on her skirt. "Who knows, I might even get hired while we're on the street and I won't be forced to go with you."
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Misty kept tapping her foot as I knocked on Bruno's nine-foot tall door. I had been knocking for what seemed like all night. I stopped to give my knuckles a rest. I turned to Misty and motioned to her hair. "Did I ever tell you that you look a lot better with your hair long and down?"
She thought Ash was finally making a move. With the most sensual voice she could muster, she said, "Why no, you haven't."
"Okay, just checking."
I could hear her mutter under he breath. "Damn thick-head of his. He wouldn't know a sex chance if one fell on his lap."
I knocked again then stepped back to examine the door. "Hey, Misty. You think we could--"
"No, Ash. For the ten thousandth time, we can't break down the door."
"Okay, fine." I knocked again. "This is getting stupid. It's been two hours."
Misty looked at her watch. "No it hasn't." She kept looking at her watch for a few seconds and looked up with a sly smile on her face. "Now it has."
"That's it. Enough is enough." I took my Magnum out of my pocket and fired a few rounds by the doorknob. With a few kicks, the door swung open. I don't understand it, I've hit the gym and worked out my legs, but I still can't bust open a single door without help from my trusty side arm. I reloaded the lost ammunition and told Misty, "Stay here. Just in case anyone runs out." I readied my gun and walked inside.
I walked into what I guessed was the living room. I guessed so from the TV against the wall and the sofa in the middle of the room facing the TV. "Bruno, ya here?" The TV was on and so was Jerry Springer. I almost stopped to watch the bitch-fight going on. Turns out Jesse and James were both having sex with Giovanni and they both wanted to confess to each other and somehow a fight broke out. I always knew that James guy was weird. (Sorry Team Rocket fans!) I noticed the person on the sofa. "Hey, Bruno. Can you hear me?" I stepped in front of the TV and faced Bruno. Unfortunately, Bruno was already dead. He had a bullet hole in his stomach and chest the size of Gary's ego. (Sorry Gary fans!) I took my cell phone from my belt clip and called the police chief. "Chief? Ketchum. Sorry to call so late. We've got another stiff. Send the clean up crew to Bruno's place. Tell them to bring an extra-extra-large body bag."
"Right. The team's on their way now." I ended the call and put the phone back in my belt clip. I was about to grab the remote control to turn up the volume when I heard light footsteps behind me. I turned and fired a single shot in that area, accidentally shooting a glass vase.
Misty screamed as the object next to her was obliterated.
"Misty! I told you to stay outside!" As I was saying that, I covered up Bruno's body with a blanket that was hanging over the back of the couch. I didn't want to wake the neighbors with gunshots and blood-curdling screams. I pocketed my gun. "Hey, since we're here, want to watch the last twenty minutes of Jerry Springer? I'm sure Bruno won't mind." She threw a confused glance at me. I moved my finger across my neck to give her the sign that he was as good as six feet under...even though he was only under a blanket. She nodded an understanding nod. We sat on the floor in front of the television. "Look on the bright side. You won't need to drag answer from one guy."
"Good. Two's the daily limit for me. Unless I'm drunk, that is." She started watching the show and noticed who was on. "Hey! We know them!"
"Unfortunately," I added.
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Well, that's the first chapter. From the way things are looking, this is gonna be one helluva long story. Don't worry, I won't upload it all at once. Review!!!
