The Winds of Time

Chapter 7

Training Day

On a hill overlooking the outskirts of a nearby city, Palkia stood looking down at a complex of buildings surrounded by tall chain-link fencing.

"There it is," Palkia said, pointing to the large, cinder block building in the center of the complex. Few windows adorned its walls but its roof hosted a variety of antennas and satellite dishes.

Are you sure? asked the tiny blue-headed pokemon floating beside him.

"It's a piece of my own body, Azelf. Yes, I'm sure. I don't know where or how they got a piece of one of my jewels but they won't have it for long."

What are you going to do?

"I'm going to take it back," Palkia said.

Are you sure that's such a good idea? Don't get me wrong. I'm all for decisive action but humans have a lot of interesting toys these days and some of them can be pretty dangerous.

Palkia turned a serious eye to Azelf. "That jewel fragment is incredibly powerful. It's too dangerous to leave in anyone else's hands."

Azelf thought for a moment, then nodded and watched Palkia disappear in a twisting of space.

Palkia reappeared inside the large building whose spacious interior held a multitude of small to medium metallic devices with blinking displays arranged in rows. Even the walls were lined with scaffolding and cables connected to who-knew-what. These various bits of technology were attended by a scattering of humans whose activities immediately ceased upon his unexpected arrival in their midst. Palkia was not interested in any of those things however, for at the far end of the cavernous room sat a large metal and glass cylinder surrounded by even more machinery inside which sat a tiny pink fragment that Palkia could feel resonating with his very being. A single, red-haired woman, apparently the only person unaware of his arrival, methodically operated the machinery connected to it. He made his way toward the end of the room, the majority of the humans scurrying away as he approached.

"Return the jewel fragment to me," Palkia intoned.

The woman turned her head and gave Palkia a casual look, seemingly unruffled by his presence. "But why?" she asked. "It's utterly fascinating, you know. We've learned so much from it."

"You have no idea what it is you're playing with," Palkia's sharp eyes focused on the laminated card clipped to her shirt bearing her photo, "Serena Crane."

"I have every idea what it is," she said. She raised her hand and suddenly, dozens of black-clad men in body armor emerged from doors in the sides of the room, armed with a combination of firearms and Prometheus gauntlets, and began to surround Palkia. "And I'm not playing."

Palkia quickly surveyed the firepower arrayed against him and decided that the odds were not in his favor. "This isn't over," he said and began to draw space around himself...

...but it refused to budge as he pulled on it. He looked around and could sense that the gridwork in the walls - connected by cabling to the cylinder holding the jewel fragment - was anchoring space in the room, preventing it from being manipulated.

"Oh, but it is," the red-haired woman said and nodded to someone behind Palkia.

Palkia saw one of the masked humans - a female - step forward and throw a poké ball.

In less than heartbeat, a brilliant flash engulfed him and he felt a tremendous force dragging him violently inside, like a whirlpool pulling a leaf into its hungry maw.

# # #

Ryan stood in his room, recently awakened, the wooden floor cold against his bare feet. He went to his dresser and grabbed two boxes of poké chow, shaking their contents into two separate bowls on the floor, the sound of which brought Buster and Spike running, barely waiting for Ryan to stop pouring before digging in. He went to his window and saw that Stacy and her blaziken, Max, were outside on the grass. A moment later, he heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" he called.

It's Gia, came a psychic voice from outside. May I come in?

"Yeah, sure," Ryan said, looking out at the through the window. He heard the door open, then close behind him. Even upon the wooden floor, Gia's footsteps were almost silent as she entered.

I'm a little surprised you could hear me through the door. Most people can't unless I have a clear line of sight.

"Cutter must be rubbing off on me. I have to say, though," he said, giving Gia a sidelong look, "I'm not sure how I feel about having mind-readers running around in my head."

What do you mean? Gia asked.

"You're psychic. You read minds don't you? That's how you're able to communicate, right?"

In the most general sense, yes, that's how we communicate. However, you're mistaken in your belief that we dig through peoples' minds, mainly because we can't.

"What do you mean you can't? You just said you communicate by mind-reading."

Only surface thoughts. Anything beyond that is hidden.

"I don't know about that," Ryan said, giving Gia a skeptical eye. "When I first met Cutter at NuGen, they were using him as a living lie-detector. I'm pretty sure he wasn't faking, either. How could he do that without really reading my mind?"

Likely through sensing your emotional state, which is also part of your surface thoughts. For example, most people get nervous to some extent when they lie.

"By the end of that interrogation session, things got pretty intense. I swear, I could feel his eyes boring into me. I mean, literally feel it. I have a hard time believing a psychic pokemon couldn't get into someone's head if they really wanted to."

Well, technically, such a thing is possible.

"Hold on, you just said you can't."

Not without your knowledge. The fact that you felt Cutter's attention proves the point, and trust me, you would know if he had been trying to do more than listen really hard. Such a mental intrusion would be, in comparison, like someone trying to put their hand in your mouth. The presence of something so foreign where it clearly didn't belong would be unmistakable and even if someone were to try it, they would have a difficult time succeeding if you didn't allow it. To force one's way into someone's mind would feel to that person like an act of violence, not unlike a physical assault. Gia paused, then continued in a softer tone, Be at ease, Ryan. Neither I nor Cutter would harm you in such a way.

Ryan turned his attention back to the window. "Right. Thanks."

Speaking of harm, may I ask how you got all those scars on your back? Gia asked.

"Old injury," Ryan replied curtly. He grabbed a t-shirt lying on the dresser nearby and slipped it on. "So, what was it that you originally came up to see me about, anyway?"

Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. Stacy wanted me to tell you that she's here and that the training can begin as soon as you're ready.

Through the window, he watched Stacy and Max playfully wrestling and rolling around on the grass below. "Those two sure are awfully..." he paused, watching Stacy wriggling helplessly and laughing as Max held her pinned down, nipping her ears with his beak, "...chummy."

They've been together for many years, Ryan. Max was Stacy's first pokemon, after all, Gia said.

"Seems kind of odd," Ryan said.

Stacy takes very good care of all of her pokemon, but those two share a special bond. In some ways, Max takes care of Stacy as much as she takes care of him. But you know, Gia said, sidling up next to Ryan, as close as she is with Max, I happen to know that she very much enjoys human companionship, as well.

"I'm sure she does," he said, turning and walking out of the room.

Gia crossed her arms and huffed in irritation. So much for subtlety, she thought.

# # #

After eating breakfast, Ryan performed a quick cleanup of some of the pokemon enclosures at the behest of Taylor Grant, the new intern who was now a part of the workday scenery at the clinic. Having had a chance to observe the newcomer for several weeks, Ryan found that he shared Doctor Lynd's assessment of the young man: He was a capable veterinarian with an affable manner toward people and pokemon alike, but had something of an aversion to the kind of menial work Ryan performed.

After quickly finishing his morning duties, Ryan rounded up Cutter and Buster, then went outside to meet up with Stacy. Both Stacy and Max had since composed themselves from their earlier activities and now reclined against a tree. Seeing Stacy closer now, he saw that she had re-frosted the tips of her hair a vibrant purple and wore a long-sleeved shirt against the cooler autumn air. In addition, Stacy now held her baby brother in her arms, wrapped up warmly in a blanket

"I'm ready," Ryan said, stopping in front the group. He looked down at the infant. "I'm a little surprised you brought Alexander along for this, though."

"My mom insisted," Stacy said, gently bouncing the infant. "She says I don't spend enough time with my brother, which is true, given what we've been doing lately."

"Not to be rude, but why doesn't she look after him herself? He's her kid, after all."

"Believe me, she does. You just don't see how much time she spends on him because you only see her at work. Also, my parents are really into the whole family bonding thing."

"Oh," Ryan said. "Why?"

"Why?" Stacy repeated. "Well, it's not exactly a bad thing for family members to spend time with each other." She glanced up at him and noted the completely neutral expression on his face. "I take it that maybe your parents didn't have the same opinion?" she asked gently.

"I don't have any parents," he replied.

"Oh. Did they..."

"Dead," he said flatly.

Ryan watched her look away and attempt a few words, each hastily abandoned before being spoken. "So," he said, leaning in to catch her eye and mercifully interrupt her obvious discomfiture, "you were going to help me train my pokemon?"

"Right," Stacy said, standing. "In fact, I've brought in some special guest trainers to get us started. Be right back."

Ryan watched her jog back into the clinic, briefly wondering what kind of training she had in store for them. Knowing how seriously she took sport battling, he imagined her spending countless hours at home, hunched over charts and tables, arranging grueling schedules and intense workouts, painstakingly designed to produce optimum development for each pokemon in the time remaining before the pro-am.

While he waited, Spike, the pichu that Ryan was looking after for Doctor Lynd, had emerged from the clinic and joined them, amusing himself by batting at Max's toes. The large blaziken, to his credit, took the attentions of the pichu in stride.

After a short while, Stacy returned, her two younger sisters in tow.

"They're the special trainers?" Ryan asked.

"Not exactly," Stacy said, and nodded to Jennifer and Christina. Each of them produced a poké ball and, in a flash of light, two pokemon appeared - Christina's pachirisu and Jennifer's new buneary. "Twitch and Mocha are," Stacy finished.

"Mocha?" Ryan asked, hearing the buneary's name for the first time.

"Be nice," Stacy whispered. "Jennifer really likes the name."

"Your pichu is cute," Jennifer said, kneeling down next to Spike. "Can I pick him up?"

"Yeah, but be careful," Ryan said. "He gets a little zappy when he gets excited." He shifted his attention back to Stacy. "So, how are those two puffballs going to train my pokemon?"

"Speed training," Stacy said with a smile. "Speed is one of the most essential aspects of battling, perhaps the most essential aspect. You can be the strongest there is, but if you're not fast enough, your strength will never reach your opponent. Speed is crucial to mounting both an effective offense and defense. Therefore, this morning's training will be simple: Catch your training partner and bring them back to me. Cutter, you get Mocha. Buster gets Twitch. While they're working on that, you and I will be going over some basics with Trace."

"Seems pretty easy," Ryan said, watching Twitch casually lick one her paws. "Are you sure we'll have time for training Trace before they're done?"

"I'm sure we'll at least be able to get started," Stacy said with a grin. She turned to Cutter and Buster. "You guys ready? Then, go!"

With that, Twitch and Mocha took off like a shot, heading in opposite directions so quickly, the gallade and metalleon were left momentarily dumbfounded. They quickly gave chase but in the brief delay, their respective quarries had already gained a substantial lead. A series of rapid jinks and dodges by Twitch and Mocha kept their pursuers stumbling and grasping at air whenever they got too close, only to dart away again. Stacy chuckled and half-smiled at Ryan who was still staring in surprise at the display of speed by her younger sisters' pokemon. "Yeah, I think we'll have time," she said. "Follow me and we'll get started with Trace."

Stacy led Ryan a short distance away to where a large rock sat in a dirt clearing. "I know you've never used Trace in combat, but do you know if he has any battle experience at all?"

"Cutter says he does. He told me that the scientists and techs at NuGen used to have friendly pokemon matches between their departments from time to time when things got slow. Apparently, Trace used to be pretty popular until they had an incident."

"An incident? What happened?" Stacy asked.

"Trace was battling a pikachu belonging to a guy from the pharmaceutical department and during the fight, the pikachu zapped Trace with a Thunderbolt. Unfortunately, Trace and the pikachu were pretty close to one of the onlookers and Trace's smooth, faceted body reflected the flashes of light from the electrical attack in just the wrong way and it sent the guy into a seizure. What are the odds, right? Anyway, after that, nobody would let Trace battle again because they said he wasn't safe. Everyone blamed Trace for giving that guy a seizure, even though it was really the pikachu's Thunderbolt that did it."

"Well, I think we'll be fine," Stacy said, "and if anything happens, I'm sure my mom can handle it." She carefully handed Alexander over to Max, instructing him to take the baby a safe distance away. Once he had done so, she returned her attention to Ryan. "Okay, now let's see what Trace can do."

Ryan produced his cell phone and called to Trace who assembled himself in a flurry of geometric shapes a moment later.

Stacy brought out her empoleon Freya to serve as fire suppression, should the need arise, and began having Trace perform several basic moves, using the proper names of each. When Ryan asked why the jargon was necessary, she explained that pokemon often could produce multiple elemental effects that, while seemingly similar, were nonetheless very different. "For example," she said, "a Thundershock may seem a lot like a Discharge but one is a focused effect while the other affects a wide area - an important distinction if you're up against two pokemon and you know that one of them actually gets strengthened when hit by electricity."

After taking the porygon's measure, she had Ryan take a turn at giving commands. In truth, this part of the training was more for Ryan's benefit, as Stacy spent the majority of the time getting him accustomed to using the proper names of the moves Trace could do and using them to direct him.

"Your porygon is quite versatile," Stacy said, after having run Ryan through a few sets. "I wonder... Trace, I want you to try something different."

The porygon cocked its head and chirped inquisitively.

"Try generating both cold energy and electricity like your Ice Beam and Thunderbolt and use your psychic energy to compress and bind them into a single beam and shoot it at the rock."

Trace warbled uncertainly, then focused toward the target rock. His eyes drew down into an expression of intense concentration as two small globes of energy - one blue and one yellow - began to collect at the tips of his feet, followed by a red globe which appeared at his forehead. With a high-pitched buzz, Trace released rays of energy from each point, all three coming together at a point just in front of him and coalescing into a single multicolored, helical beam of red, blue and yellow that shot forward and blasted into the rock with a burst of light. The litter of loose, dry leaves and grass around the rock ignited and began to burn. Freya stepped forward and quickly doused the fire with a stream of water from her beak.

"That was pretty intense," Ryan said, surveying the scorched rock. "Never heard of making fire with ice before, though."

"That was called a tri-attack, and the fire was actually from the heat generated by the psychic compression. This particular attack can actually burn, paralyze or freeze an opponent, depending on how the beam hits it." She nodded approvingly at Trace. "This a powerful attack. Your porygon must be pretty strong to be able to pull it off."

Trace bobbed in the air, chirping proudly.

Ryan turned as he saw Buster trudging toward them with weary steps, breathing heavily around the pachirisu he held in his mouth by the scruff of its neck. Following behind was Cutter, similarly winded and holding a buneary. Both stopped in front of Ryan and Stacy, dropping their catches and collapsing to the ground, panting. Twitch and Mocha took but a moment to smooth their ruffled fur, then bounded lightly away.

"Good job, guys," Stacy said. "Let's take a break and we can pick it back up after lunch."

# # #

Ryan was watching Buster and Cutter recovering from their earlier exercise - Buster drinking water from a bowl and Cutter alternating between sipping from cup and taking bites from a fruit and grain bar - when Max approached, waving and vocalizing energetically. Ryan turned to face the blaziken. "What's up, Max?"

Max pointed at Ryan, then pointed at a spot where a small path led into the forest beyond.

"Is this about more training? Stacy said we weren't doing anything until after lunch." He nodded toward Buster who was lapping eagerly at his bowl of water. "At least give them a chance to catch their breath, for crying out loud."

Max shook his head, holding up an open hand toward Ryan's pokemon then pointed at Ryan himself.

"You mean just me?"

Max nodded emphatically and pointed toward the path once again.

Ryan sighed, then began walking in the indicated direction. "This better not take long," he muttered. "I'm getting hungry."

Ryan followed the narrow, meandering trail through the forest, now gilded in autumn colors of fire-red and gold both above in the branches and below in scatterings of fallen foliage. He continued on for a few minutes until he spotted a small, arrow-shaped piece of paper taped to one of the broad trunks. He looked in the direction of the arrow which pointed off toward a small stream away from the trail. He saw no sign of Stacy, but a splash of color on the ground near the stream caught his eye.

He walked toward it until he saw that it was a blue-colored blanket laid out among the fallen leaves near the gurgling stream. A plastic cooler sat upon the blanket in its center.

He was about to examine it further when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw Stacy walking toward him along the edge of the stream.

"There you are," Stacy called as she approached. "You picked an interesting place to have a conversation."

"What are you talking about?" Ryan said.

"Gia told me you were out here and wanted to talk to me about something."

"That's funny, because Max told me you wanted to see me."

Stacy glanced at the cooler sitting on the blanket, then sighed, half-smiling. "Oh, they didn't..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm going to have to have a talk with those two."

Unfazed, Ryan opened the cooler, examining its contents. "Yeah, well, in the meantime, I'm starving and this stuff actually looks pretty good."

Stacy watched him take out several sandwiches and couple bottles of lemonade from the cooler and set them on the blanket. "I suppose it would be a shame to let it go to waste," she said. "Mind if I join you?"

Ryan tossed her a bottle of lemonade and nodded to an empty spot on the blanket.

From a distant vantage point, hidden from view, Gia and Max watched as the pair ate together, afterward reclining on the blanket in conversation which gave way to laughter as the two took turns tossing rawst berries into each others mouths. The two pokemon nodded to each other, smiling, and crept quietly away.

# # #

Later that day, after a few more rounds of speed training and some drills to familiarize Ryan with his pokemon's individual talents, Ryan was heading back into the clinic to catch up on his afternoon job duties when he spotted Christina's rhydon, Crash, leaning back against the wall of the clinic, relaxing in the late afternoon sun. Ryan was about to pass him by but something that had been nagging at him for far too long stopped him.

"You're looking pretty good, these days," Ryan said to the rhydon. "Christina must be taking pretty good care of you - better than that other guy, anyway." Ryan saw no response from Crash. If the rhydon noticed his presence, he gave no indication of it. Still, Ryan pressed on. "Look, I want you to know that I still feel bad about that fight. Maybe I should've popped your old trainer in the nose instead of dusting it up with you. I don't know. I never meant to get you kicked out of your home, though. I know what it's like to be abandoned. Even when someone else comes along to look after you, you don't know anything about them. It's like your whole world goes out the window and you..." he paused, seeing the rhydon finally regard him with an expressionless stare, "...you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?"

Unsurprisingly, Crash said nothing.

Ryan shook his head and sighed. "Good talk, Crash," he said, and started walking away.

The sound of a low, gravelly bark behind him stopped him short. He turned and saw Crash standing suddenly and surprisingly close. Crash looked down at him, his eyes no longer vacant, instead now filled with an odd intensity. The rhydon lifted a large hand and placed it on top of Ryan's head, holding it there, a soft rumbling note rolling in his throat. Finally, Crash turned and ambled back to his spot against the wall, closing his eyes.

Ryan stood there for a short time, then quietly went inside.

# # #

The next day, training resumed. After a quick review of the previous day's activities, Stacy was eager to move on.

"Now that we've covered some of the basics," Stacy said, "it's time for you to meet the pokemon who'll be making up my half of the team. For the pro-am, each of us will bring three pokemon to make a full team of six. Since Spike is still too young, that only leaves you with three, which makes your selection pretty easy. For my three, I chose pokemon that I think will make a good complement to yours." She pulled out a poké ball and tapped its release button. With a pop and a flash of light, her empoleon appeared before her. "You know Freya. As a water and steel type, she'll be good both on offense and defense."

She pulled another poké ball from her belt and from it emerged a great saurian pokemon that stood even taller than Max, its long neck stretching over six and a half feet high. Four broad leaves extended from its back and bunches of yellow fruit hung from its neck. "This is Samson, my tropius. He may look like a lumbering brute, but he's as graceful in the air as a braviary and his types make him a good all-around attacker."

Finally, she pulled a third poké ball, from which she released a pokemon of medium height that looked like an upright-walking crocodile, its reddish-brown hide slashed with bands of black. Its eyes lay sunken in pits of pitch-black above broad jaws filled with rows of large teeth. Its fingers, tipped with sharp claws, twitched eagerly as it looked up at Stacy. "Rounding things out is Dredge, my krookodile. If anyone tries to get frisky with us using electric pokemon, he'll shut 'em down quick."

In response, Dredge opened his toothy maw and stamped the ground with one foot, sending a sharp vibration through the earth beneath Ryan's feet.

"Easy there, Dredge," Stacy said, scratching him affectionately along the ridges of his back. "Now we'll run a few drills to get your pokemon used to tournament procedures. It's important that your pokemon learn to stop attacking once the referee's whistle blows. Attacking downed opponents is a no-no and your pokemon can get flagged for doing it. The League takes a dim view of trainers who can't control their pokemon."

Stacy had Cutter, Buster and Trace pair off with Freya, Samson and Dredge for light sparring that was frequently interrupted by her blowing a whistle, whereupon the combatants were expected to immediately stop. Stacy's pokemon responded instantly to the whistle, already being well-practiced at League battling and after a few rounds, Ryan's pokemon had picked it up as well.

"Now we're going to have a proper sparring match with you directing your pokemon," Stacy said. "This will be a test not only of how well you handle your pokemon but also how well they follow your directions. We'll start out one-on-one, then work our way up to team battles. Ready?"

"Let's do it," Ryan replied.

"Then send in your first pokemon." She turned to her krookodile. "Dredge, you're up first."

"I'll be starting with Cutter," Ryan said.

The two pokemon stepped forward into the area on the lawn marked off for the match, facing each other from their respective ends. Stacy brought her hand up and said, "Ready!". When Ryan nodded, she dropped her hand and blew her whistle.

Cutter and Dredge advanced on each other, Cutter extending his arm blades and Dredge snapping his wide jaws eagerly.

"Move in, Cutter, and watch those jaws," Ryan called out.

Cutter circled in closer, ducking away from a few quick snaps from the krookodile's maw, testing his opponent's defenses. When he spotted an opening, he moved in for a quick slashing strike.

"Dredge, Shadow Claw!" Stacy shouted.

The krookodile's clawed fingers burned with a purple nimbus and he slashed out with them at Cutter. Ryan's gallade dodged backward, but Dredge's claws still managed to rake a grazing line across Cutter's shoulder. Cutter winced from the strike which burned, slight though it was.

"Be careful, Ryan," Stacy called across the field. "Most pokemon can surprise you with moves that have nothing to do with their types."

"Alright Cutter, watch his claws, then go in low with a Leaf Blade," Ryan said.

Cutter nodded then pressed his attack, dancing around Dredge's counterattacks. Cutter dashed in again, his arm blades glowing green, outlined in a long, thin, translucent leaf shape, and slashed low, staggering Stacy's krookodile.

Stacy blew her whistle and both combatants immediately halted. "Good choice, Ryan. You recognized that Cutter's usual psychic-based attack would be ineffective and picked a strong alternative."

Ryan simply nodded, smiling.

"Okay," she continued, "let's go two-on-two. Dredge, come on back. Freya, Rush, your turn."

Ryan looked down at his porygon. "Trace, go back Cutter up."

Trace emitted a short, electronic chirp and floated toward Cutter on the field. Meanwhile, Stacy's luxray and empoleon moved forward with Rush advancing ahead of Freya.

"Keep it tight and don't let Rush get behind you," Ryan called. In response, Trace and Cutter moved in close with each other, watching their opponents.

"Grouping up isn't always the best strategy, Ryan," Stacy said from across the lawn. "Freya, back off. Rush, Discharge!"

Stacy's empoleon, already hanging back, widened the distance between herself and her partner. The luxray dashed forward toward Ryan's pokemon and roared, filling the air around it with long arcs of electricity which engulfed both Cutter and Trace, momentarily staggering them.

"Sometimes it isn't," Ryan said to Stacy, "but sometimes it is. Trace, Conversion protocol two. Cutter, Double Team!"

The polygons of Trace's body flickered, changing from their usual red and blue coloration to yellow and blue while Cutter, taking a moment to concentrate, began to surround himself with illusory copies of himself.

In response, Stacy sent her pokemon in for the attack. Rush dashed in, snapping at Cutter, but each time, his electrified jaws found only a duplicate that evaporated between his teeth. Freya moved ponderously forward, spitting a jet of water that Trace dodged.

Ryan pointed to the empoleon. "Okay Trace, Thunderbolt on Freya."

Electricity began to arc between the porygon's feet, made stronger now that Trace had converted itself to an electrical type from Rush's attack, and lashed out in a sizzling bolt that struck the empoleon, dropping it down to all fours. Having neutralized his opponent, Trace turned toward the luxray."

"Rush, Discharge!" Stacy shouted.

The luxray filled the air with electricity once again. The energy disrupted a couple Double Team copies of Cutter but barely seemed to touch Trace, dancing almost harmlessly across his body.

"Trace, Psybeam," Ryan commanded.

A thin, pink beam shot from between Trace's eyes, striking Rush. It left no mark upon the luxray's body but left it wobbling dizzily, breaking its electrical attack.

Before Ryan could give a command to Cutter, Stacy blew her whistle. "Well played, Ryan," she said. "Rush was about to be easy pickings for Cutter. Taking that first hit allowed Trace to dominate the battle."

"It's not about who hits first," Ryan said, "it's who hits last."

"Since you're doing so well, let's kick things up a notch. Three-on-three."

"Alright, Buster. You're up." Ryan watched his metalleon run onto the field, joining Trace and Cutter.

"Rush, Freya, come on back. Gia, Max, Samson, you're in."

Stacy's empoleon and luxray joined her krookodile on the sidelines while her gardevoir, blaziken and tropius took the field in their place.

"Cutter, take Max and watch his feet," Ryan called.

"Gia. Use Psychic on Buster. Max, keep Cutter busy. Samson, take to the air."

The air rippled with Gia's psychic force, slamming into Buster. The metalleon winced from the attack, which didn't seem to do a lot of damage, but left Buster growling, his angular, blade-like ears laying back in irritation. Meanwhile, Max and Cutter had squared off, Max taking the initiative and striking out with fiery kicks. Samson, with a mighty flap of his leafy wings, launched into the air.

Ryan said, "Buster, move in on Gia and hit her with your Iron Head. Trace, come around and get Samson with an Ice Beam. That should fix 'em both."

Buster hunkered down, getting ready to charge while Trace pulled back taking aim at the tropius circling overhead. Just as Buster started charging in, Ryan noticed that the fight between Max and Cutter was starting to drift toward...

"Buster, stop!" Ryan shouted. The metalleon skidded to a halt, only a few yards short of Gia. "Pull back and guard Samson." Buster flicked a questioning look at Ryan, then looked back toward Gia in front of him. "Back!" Ryan commanded, gesturing toward himself.

Reluctantly, Buster backed off, taking a defensive position in the rear.

"Trace, Conversion protocol one," Ryan continued. "Match to Psybeam and engage Gia."

Ryan's porygon began to change color again, this time to a combination of pink and grey, and moved in on Gia.

With that, Max started to edge away again, taking the melee between himself and Cutter with it. As the match wore on, Max's greater experience began to show as he started wearing Cutter down. Gia, meanwhile, was finding her strongest attacks to now have little effect on Trace who was rapidly beating down her defenses with his Signal Beam. Despite his aerial mobility, Samson couldn't seem to gain ground on Buster as his attacks repeatedly bounced off of the metalleon's armored hide but neither could Buster seem to gain advantage over his aerial opponent.

Finally, Stacy blew her whistle, ending the match. "Nicely done, everyone. You know, Ryan, you're a natural at this. You saw the trap I was laying for Buster with Max and repositioned him rather than taking the bait and going for the type-advantage hit on Gia."

"It's just a matter of keeping your surroundings in mind," Ryan said. "It's one of the things I learned when I was taught how to fight."

"Your teacher must've been pretty good. Who was it that taught you?"

Ryan made a small but genuine smile. "A friend."

"I think that'll do it for today, then," Stacy said. "Again, good job. Let's get everyone inside and patched up."

# # #

Ryan stood in the back hallway of Doctor Lynd's house, eyeing the small wrapped box in his hand with concern. "Are you sure about this, Cutter? I really think I should've given this to her when she got her other presents."

It'll be better this way, Cutter said. And why are you so worried about this?

"Because Christina's a nice girl and this is her birthday. I don't want to ruin it for her."

Trust me, you're not going to ruin anything. Seeing the look of concern on Ryan's face he added, And if there's a problem, I'll tell her it was my idea. Speaking of which, he glanced toward Christina who was walking in their direction in the hallway.

"Okay, now that we're all done eating, what's the big surprise?" Christina asked.

"It's not that big a surprise," Ryan said, "I just thought it would be nice for you to have something that wasn't part of a big pile."

"Ooh, personal touch, hmm? I'm intrigued," Christina said, grinning. "So, whadja get me?"

Ryan handed her the box and watched her tear open the paper wrapping. "Like I said, it's nothing major..." he trailed off.

When she lifted the lid off the box, her eyes grew wide, flitting from its contents to Ryan and back again. Slowly, she lifted out a silver necklace from which hung a small hummingbird made of cunningly woven gold wire, its slender wings extended in a pose of flight. "It's... it's beautiful," she gasped. She turned the hummingbird pendant over in her hands, her face beaming. "It must've cost so much! Did it? Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to ask. It's so pretty, though! Where did you find it? I..." she blinked, then quickly clapped her mouth shut. A moment later, she thrust the necklace out to him. "Put it on me! I want to wear it right now!"

She turned around and pulled her long, blonde hair to the side. Ryan then slipped the necklace around her neck, fastening it closed.

Her gift now securely placed, she faced Ryan again, touching the hummingbird with a finger. "Thank you, Ryan," she said with a demure smile. "I love it." Before he could respond, she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then turned and hurried away.

I told you she'd like it, Cutter said, looking up at Ryan whose face was quickly taking on an unusually dark shade of red.

Ryan said nothing, merely nodding before walking away.

Cutter watched him go, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face.