Valetshipping, perhaps?

This chapter can be a giftie to ArcanineOod, 'cause she likes this pairing and stuff, haha. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.


It was rare to see the Castle Valet at the Battle Frontier's Arcade, and even rarer still to see him without the constant company of his princess. And yet here he was, alone, looking rather out-of-place in his classy suit and tie amidst the flashing lights and blinking neon signs of Dahlia's facility, which was why the Arcade Star soon sauntered over, clearly curious about her friend's unexpected visit. Completely oblivious to Dahlia's approach as his back was facing her, the butler waved over a nearby barkeeper and (his shoulders slumped in a sad, defeated sort of way) proceeded to order 'something heavily alcoholic', which made the young woman's smile fade into a concerned frown. She was about to move closer when she suddenly realized that his hair had been dyed purple.

Purple.

Purple.

The same color as Argenta's.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as tears of mirth threatened to fall from her eyes. Startled, Darach whipped around in alarm before fixing the woman with a rather flustered glare. "M-must you always sneak up behind me like that? You'll give me a heart attack one of these days, you know," he said with a distasteful frown. Dahlia merely continued to giggle behind her hands, finally managing to choke out a few words:

"Darach... what... did you do... to your hair?" she articulated at last between bouts of laughter, and her companion seemed to deflate a few inches in sheer mortification, his annoyed expression shifting into one of resignation.

"Please, Miss Dahlia, it's not funny! Lady Caitlin ordered me to—"

"—to dye your hair purple?" the Arcade Star finished for him, quirking an eyebrow in disbelief. The butler's distraught mood had effectively sombered her up so she was no longer laughing, and truthfully she now felt quite mean for laughing at him so lightheartedly. Still, she managed to flash a sad smile in his direction, shaking her head in a concerned fashion. "Eh, you really need to draw the line at some point, Dar," she finally sighed, eyebrows furrowed. "I know Cait's your employer, and she probably wears the pants in your relationship..." (Darach made a small sound of protest, evidently keen to defend the princess from such a crude comment) "...but enough is enough, y'know? You practically worship the ground she walks on, and that's... probably... not... a good... thing."

The Arcade Star trailed off, biting her lip. If there was a flaw with Darach (besides his meticulous and obsessive-compulsive cleaning habits, that is), it was that he was too strongly devoted to Caitlin to care much about how it affected his own well-being. This was going to be harder than she'd thought. Finally, for lack of something better to do, the black-haired woman threw her arms up into the air and ground her teeth together in obvious exasperation. "Look, Darach, you just need to stand up to her more so stupid crap like this doesn't happen. It'll be easier on me as well, 'cause then you won't end up depressed and passed out at my bar all the time."

"That only happened once, thank you very much," the Castle Valet countered with a pained frown. After a short moment he added, "And if you care to know, Lady Caitlin actually told me to dye my hair black, not purple..."

The Arcade Star raised her eyebrows. "Uh huh, right. And why'd she want you to do that?"

"She said my hair was stupid."

"Your hair is stupid," Dahlia reasoned. "...Even so, that kind of comment seems a little uncalled for."

"...Indeed. Anyway, I went to the Hall Matron for help, but I regret to say that Miss Argenta got a little... carried away," the man concluded meekly. Dahlia stared at him, her expression akin to one of pity. This was almost as bad as the time Caitlin had ordered him to wear a dress and answer to the title 'Castle Maid Darach'. Worse yet, Palmer had found that whole incident completely hilarious, and even Thorton had looked up from his analysis machine long enough to crack an amused grin. The butler's current situation hadn't quite hit that level of rock-bottom yet... But, Dahlia mused, it didn't seem to be getting any better either.


Just as the Arcade Star predicted, Darach's dilemma didn't improve. In fact, a few hours later it worsened considerably. The doors suddenly swung open and the Castle's princess herself strode in, glancing around at the colorful lights and electronic surroundings with a somewhat dispassionate air. Finally spotting Dahlia amidst the crowd, she made her way over and stood before the older woman with her arms crossed over her chest. "Dahlia," she began seriously, "is that stupid butler of mine here? He missed dinner."

"Um, yeah, Cait. He's sorta sitting right next to me."

"W-what?" The princess stepped closer and the Castle Valet seemed to finally notice her presence, leaping up and awkwardly bowing, a painfully delayed gesture. Breaking the rather mortified silence that followed, the girl shook her head and heaved a heavy sigh, not even seeming to care how unladylike the sound was. "For the love of Arceus, Darach, I thought you were Argenta. What did you do to your hair?"

The atmosphere seemed to have dropped about ten degrees, thick with rising tension. "F-forgive me, my Lady. I merely—"

"That's enough, Darach." Caitlin's voice was cold and hard, like splintering ice. "Do you know how long I've waited for you back at the Castle? We were going to have dinner together, remember? I suppose you've been here with Dahlia this whole time, am I right?"

'Oh, shit, leave me out of this,' the Arcade Star thought to herself inwardly. Aloud, she said, "We weren't on a date or anything, Caitlin. Darach came by after 'Genta screwed up his hair, and we just chatted for a while. The time really flew by, I guess—I was just telling him about how yesterday I pushed Thorton into a puddle when you walked in."

The princess didn't uncross her arms but a strange look passed across her face for a scant moment, so briefly that Dahlia was half-convinced that she had only imagined it. It was a mixture of relief and frustration, and the Arcade Star for the first time saw behind the commanding and apathetic mask a living, breathing girl, emotionally troubled after being thrust into such a powerful position at so young an age.

Whether it had been real or imagined, the moment soon ended and Caitlin turned away with a frown, her expression cool and businesslike once more. She glanced at her butler for a split-second, her green eyes conflicted and hard, then stalked away and disappeared out the Arcade doors. After a moment Dahlia shot the man next to her a questioning look, raising an eyebrow. "...Uh, okay then. Aren't you going to follow her, Dar?" she finally asked, though she was fairly sure she knew the answer. The Castle Valet sighed and shook his head.

"No, I'm... I'm pretty sure Lady Caitlin doesn't want to talk to me right now," he replied, looking somewhat depressed. "I'm sorry, Miss Dahlia, but do you mind if I stay here a little while longer?"

"Oh, it's no trouble. I can hardly blame Cait for being upset, though. I mean, it's bad enough you missed your dinner date with her, but then she finds out that it's because you've been with me all evening... Arceus, it's no wonder she was mad."

"Will you please stop doing that?"

Dahlia paused. "Doing what?"

"Implying that... we're in a relationship or something." The butler groaned and rubbed his temples tiredly. "As lightheartedly as you mean it to be, Miss Dahlia, it's still hardly an appropriate thing to suggest."

"I was being serious that time, Darach," his female coworker replied with an exasperated grin. "Can't you tell she has a crush on you?"

Apparently, the thought had never crossed his mind.


I imagine Dahlia takes the initiative to write the phone numbers of various self-help groups on Darach's forehead when he's passed out, because the way I write him, he seems to have a bit of a drinking problem. D:

(Then again, living with Caitlin can probably do that to you...)