A/N:

The requested Candlestick (yep, I checked the shipping list on Serebii for the name) fic is here.

But I don't think it's well done at all, compared to the other ones I've seen floating around D: I just can't help but picture Steven to be someone who's really intelligent and capable as a Champion, but a complete block of wood when it comes to romance. Poor Flannery ;_;

-runs off to hide in a corner with a metal pot over her head-

World – Manga
Characters – Steven/Flannery (Candlestickshipping)
Genres – Romance, Humour
Note(s) – Requested by manhattan, Clover and Sapphire


Fen : Steven and Flannery
noun
- a low land covered partially or wholly in water; boggy land; a marsh.

Puff by puff, thick billows of steam wafted from the crater of Mount Chimney and mingled with the fresh countryside air. It was easy to tell despite the glassy surface of the window between him and the mountain. He scrutinized the dormant volcano in the distance for just a moment more, before reverting back to the documents resting before him, scratching the tip of his poised pen against the walls of text imprinted on the pasty white papers. He was writing down more observations again, and filling his investigations with added notes in scrawled, cursive handwriting. He cancelled out a paragraph of words, added in a sentence of two, then crossed out a misplaced word. No, no, something was wrong, everything wasn't agreeing with everything – nothing was agreeing with nothing. His steel-grey eyes swept over a piece of paper; before he crushed the report and tossed it accurately into a grey bin sulking at a dark corner of the study room. Clunk! The wad of paper gave its last cry before it was disposed.

"Ace shot," a female's voice chimed from the doorway.

Steven smiled weakly as he peered over the supporting back of the wooden chair he was occupying to see a redhead leaning against the doorframe, clad in her usual black shirt and baggy jeans. She replied his smile with a toothy grin, holding up a cup of what he presumed was caffeine. Flannery hardly drank coffee; it was uncommon to see her holding a cup of the fluid. "Again, sorry for barging in like this unexpectedly," he apologised to the owner of the gym, before returning to his papers, flitting through piece after piece as he sunk back into his research. Flannery approached his side and placed the steaming mug on the timbered table, resting an elbow on the back of his chair. The wooden old furniture squeaked loudly in protest.

"It's alright," she comforted the man who was now hunched over his work. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the concentration Steven was administering to his documents. With his furrowed brow, focused eyes and impassive lip, she couldn't help but find him dashing. Yet, the fact that he was giving off a detached vibe made her worry, it felt like he was there physically – but his mind was completely consumed elsewhere. He looked like such a workaholic. "What's got you all worked up about?" Flannery inquired, her eyes leaving Steven so that she could view the gigantic volcano positioned before Fallabor's gym.

Steven ran a hand through his grey hair as he tapped the blunt end of his pen repeatedly against the surface of the desk. He was particularly confused over a set of data that had been passed down by the Devon Corporation a week ago, their research on the volcano's characteristics just did not seem to tally with his findings. Was the volcano gradually changing, or was this a natural cycle that it would have to undergo in order to fully recover from the titanic clash between Groudon and Kyogre?

"Hello? Steven?" Flannery had a displeased hand on her hip and an upturned mouth.

"Yes?" he half-heartedly acknowledged as he thumbed through a stack of files he had placed to the side of the table.

"I asked what's all the big commotion about," she informed him pointedly, clearly unhappy that the man wasn't paying much attention to her.

"The volcano's acting abnormal, and I can't seem to understand why, even though I've spent the last five days here." The words tumbled messily out of his mouth as his attention remained firmly glued elsewhere.

"Seven," Flannery corrected him absentmindedly.

"Right," Steven nodded as he threw another wad of paper at the lonely dustbin with deft precision.

"How did the volcano revive itself after dying out? Was it Groudon? Yes, it must have been…" The man considered his words as he scribbled furiously over a blank page of lined paper. The female at his side started to open her mouth to attempt to speak, but the Stone Getter injected firmly, "Yet, we've no proof to ascertain that. And why did Groudon do it?" Soon after, he stroked out a chunk of words from the notepad he had been writing on and continued to deliberate over the matter, comparing readings of the Mount Chimney's daily temperatures and volcanic activity between his two hands.

"Steve', you can be such a goof," Flannery laughed a little too loudly as she slapped a hand onto the shoulder of his ironed suit. He flinched slight under the warm of the lady's palm. "Don't you think that some things don't really need clear answers?" she offered her opinion, and the grey-haired male looked up from the desk and stared at the redhead with a look of pure disbelief. Was that even plausible?

"You know, like how you don't need to ask questions to get the answer you want?" A smile tugged at the corners of her cherry lips as her crimson hair burned aflame behind her. His eyebrows raised so much so that they disappeared under his ashen bangs. First; he couldn't understand how the girl could've thought in such a way. Questioning the world and searching for answers was essentially his job, and one that he was fond of, mind you. Second; he couldn't understand why he found her captivating under the bleak, fluorescent lights of the room.

Stones; he could examine and experiment with; evaluate; and even discern their contents.

Women; were another matter altogether.

Flannery caught a glimpse of his stunned expression, and the picturesque smile faltered from her face before it disappeared, replaced by a soft sigh and saddened eyes. "You know, Steven, sometimes, it'd hurt too much to know the answer." She chewed her lower lip. "So you don't even bother asking anyway," the female mumbled, as her fingers unclasped themselves from his shoulder. He stared at her for a while, as her chestnut eyes wandered the room, a certain gloom flickering in their depths. Had he done something wrong? He hadn't even said anything to the girl. Were these possibly the mood swings Wallace had once mentioned; the ones Winona suffered from time and time again?

"Miss Flannery! There's a challenger waiting out in the front!" a loud voice bellowed from down the hallway, causing the female to snap out of her daydream. "Looks like I've got to go." She waved goodbye to the immobile Steven as she began to walk out the door, looking brand new and chipper as she shook off the initial downcast lingering over her body.

"Nice Fire Stone, by the way," she added on with a teasing wink, before exiting out of the room. Her heavy footsteps resounded through the corridors as she made her way to another battle, and to possibly give out another Heat Badge. Steven stared at the empty doorway for a few silent seconds, still contemplating her words. He moved a hand to the metal belt around his waist, and lifted up the beautiful Fire Stone that Flannery had pointed out. He ran a thumb over the rocky mass that was shaped uncannily like a flame.

As he examined the evolution stone, he heard obvious noise coming from beyond the door, of which consisted the barely audible scream of a flustered girl, and then hasty replies of a man. Was it the challenger making a ruckus?

Steven reverted back to his desk, and the mountains of paperwork piled up – yet something gnawed at him. "… Questions which don't need answers," he spoke as if he had just emerged from a sea of fascinated cognition. The young male blinked once, twice, ran his eyes over the cup of warm coffee, and his shoulder where her hand had perched. It barely tingled with her warmth. He then placed a hand to his forehead as Flannery's words echoed in his mind, flushing out the previous flurry of information he was trying to digest. Away went the figures and statistics of the confusing volcano, instantly replaced by preoccupation with the queer redhead.

The coffee; the concern; the words (had he really spent seven days with her and not noticed?), Flannery obviously had something on her mind, and she'd wanted to share it with him too. But he was too busy with his work to even notice. No wonder she had had such a disappointed look on her face. Steven planted his cheek onto the wooden table and exhaled a stressing breath of air.

"I'll ask her properly later," he instructed himself.

And, even if things didn't go according to plan and Flannery was still upset, he knew two ways to cheer the lady up.

He'd seen Wallace and Winona argue before (when they were still an item), and one kiss on the cheek was all it took for Winona to simmer down (no, Steven was most certainly not spying on the couple, he just… happened to know). But, kissing, even on the cheek, was such a daring move – could he really do it to a comrade like Flannery? Was Flannery even a comrade? Was she something more? What was it about her that made him think of her now; that bell-like laugh, or those caring eyes… or perhaps, that fiery personality? Had he been neglecting all of that in place of his research?

Steven released a perplexed sigh.

Or... he could just give her the Fire Stone.