A/N: Hey, y'all, guess what?

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…

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VOTING IS OVER!

Yep, that's right. No more discussion and no, I won't tell you who won. So there!

R&R and Thank you!

Author: HA! (Smug)
Wizard: Oh, come on! I spent the last couple of chapters waiting and waiting to see who got the midget, and you won't tell me who it is?
Author: Nope! (grins)

Rage: Unkind… (Smirk) I like it!

"Talking"

"Pokémon Talking"

Thinking

"PokéDex Talking"

"PokéGaze Talking"

"Egg-Reader Information"

Chapter Ten

"We're almost there," Harry reassured his tired friends as they huddled together, trying to protect his PokéGear from the downpour as they examined the map. They were all soaked through to the bone and miserable. All the Pokémon had been recalled, and were envied for the warmth and comfortable dryness their pokéballs' provided.

Wearily, the four children sloshed through the thick, wet grass and mud, grim and steady as any man facing the too-short walk to the gallows to be hung. They had passed the closed Berry Shop twenty minutes before, and now they fought the wet chill the August rain provided, with a stiff breeze from a nearby lake that did nothing but add further discomfort to the travelers.

"Rain, rain, go away," Lyn sang softly; Ric picked up the tune, just as softly.

"Come again another day." Harry and Thad joined in as the twins turned the nursery rhyme into a nearly-whispered chant.

Rain, Rain,

Go Away.

Come Again

Another Day

They sang/chanted the song in eerie unison as they trudged on, heads ducked and hands wrapped comfortingly around the straps of their backpacks. Harry unconsciously weaved around areas with thick and soupy-looking mud, where the earth was loose and dangerous. The others followed him with a nearly pack-like mentality, with the twin's side-by-side and Thad bringing up the back as the new-comer.

Ten minutes later, still upholding their steady mantra, the four Trainer's rounded a corner and found themselves staring at a large, one-story building that looked like a bizarre mix between a lab and a log-cabin. A ragged cheer escaped them, and they hurried the last twenty-feet or so.

"Hello?" Harry called, knocking on the red door firmly, as the group huddled under the small porch-roof. The door opened, exposing a lanky middle-aged man who was wearing black slacks, a blue dress-shirt, and a white lab-coat. His blue hair, turning silver at the temples, was spiked up slightly, and would have probably reached his chin when let down. A matching blue/silver mustache rested over his mouth, and kind and curious blue-gray eyes blinked at the soaked children from behind neat, small-lensed, rectangular glasses.

"Oh, dear!" he exclaimed, and herded the grateful children in. "Come, come! Sit by the fire, all of you! This is horrid weather to be wandering around at night in." Obediently huddling on the polished-hard-wood floor in front of the blazing hearth, they dethawed as the blue-and-silver-haired man left, only to return with tick, fluffy beach towels, wrapping one around each of their shoulders.

"Mr. Pokémon?" Harry asked carefully; the man blinked, then smiled at him with a small laugh.

"That's what my associates call me!" He announced, amused. "I am a Pokémon Egg Specialist, and a Researcher of all kinds of Pokémon. My real name is Henry Bailey. Call me whichever you're more comfortable with, please." Harry smiled at him, and dug through his wet bag, idly making sure the egg was dry before pulling out the only slightly-damp letter from Professor Elm.

"Professor Elm asked us to deliver this to you, sir," he said, handing it to the Egg Specialist. Ric had bundled his egg into his towel and was sitting especially close to the fire, warming it. Harry's own egg seemed happy enough to be damp and cool for the moment, at least. Mr. Pokémon took the letter, opened it, and read through it quickly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

"Show me these eggs the Professor says two of you have," he said, folding the letter and carefully sliding it into an inner pocket of his lab-jacket. Harry obligingly pulled his egg from his bag, and immediately, the Egg-Reader chimed cheerfully.

"Egg-Reader Update! The Pokémon Fetus has reached the stage where it has begun to understand some of the words that filter through it's shell, along with the emotion that fuels those words! Be advised: too much anger and/or harshness will be deemed acceptable to the fetus when the time to hatch comes. Aggressive or extremely meek Pokémon may result. Steps Until full Fetal growth: Three thousand, one hundred, and ninety-six! Thank you!"

"Fascinating!" Mr. Pokémon exclaimed, eyes bright with awed curiosity. He examined both the egg and the Egg-Reader, before handing it back to Harry. Quickly, the boy put it back in the nest of damp, cool clothes. Ric reluctantly held out his own egg, and the Researcher took it with a small smile of reassurance. Ric gave him a sheepish look.

"Sorry," he said, and Mr. Pokémon shook his head, long, narrow fingers skittering unconsciously over the blue-green/tan/striped shell, pressing and looking for soft-spots and fragile areas.

"Perfectly understandable. I'm guessing this is your first egg?" Ric nodded, watching the Egg-Expert work. "Quite a few Trainers' dislike letting others handle their eggs. Especially when it's the first time they've gotten to care for one. Is this your first egg too, my boy?" The man asked, glancing at Harry with some distraction; Harry smiled slightly, but it was tinged with wistfulness.

"No sir," he replied. "My first egg is now my Ninetails, Shadow. He's back in Kanto, where a couple of friends and my dad are taking care of him and my other Pokémon. I've also helped with two other baby Pokémon, so I know what, basically, to do to deal with them." Mr. Pokémon nodded, then pressed the button on the Egg-Reader. It chimed to life immediately.

"Egg-Reader Analysis Activated! Analyzing…" It beeped three times. "Analyzation Complete! Steps Until Full Fetal Growth: Eight Thousand, two hundred eighty-two steps! Note: Fetus is still too young to dream or understand words or sounds that filter through the shell. Suggestion: Continue as before." Nodding, smiling, Mr. Pokémon handed the egg carefully back to Ric, who immediately cuddled it close and once more huddled next to the fire.

"Everything seems to e in order, children!" The Researcher declared, smiling warmly. "I'll go and fetch some blankets and pillows, and you can all camp out in here for the night. There's a phone in the kitchen" he gestured to a nearby door, then down a hallway, "bathroom is the third door on the left, my room is the first on the right. I ask you don't go through the other doors as one is my lab and the other holds delicate machinery that I'd rather not get bumped." They all nodded, then the man blinked. "Ah, names would be good to know, yes?" The four Trainers grinned at him.

"I'm Harry," Harry told him, "That's Lyn, and the boy by the fire is Ric. And this is Thad." Thad waved, Lyn nodded, and Ric hummed, cuddling his egg closer. Mr. Pokémon nodded and smiled.

"I'll go and get those blankets then, shall I?" Humming an odd tune under his breath, the Researched padded out of the room, and Harry blinked, only then realizing that the man had been wearing blue bunny-slippers. Bemused, he turned and wrapped his towel more firmly around him, leaning back against the couch behind him. Thad dozed nearby already, soaking in the warmth from the fire, while Lyn scooted over to snuggled against her twin, both watching the flames.

He didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he woke up, blinking blearily, hours later. The fire had died down to embers, with Ric and Lyn curled up like cats in front of it, the other boy with his arms curled protectively around his egg. Thad was slumped on his side, arms curled in the blanket close to his chest, and snoring softly. Harry rubbed his eyes and yawned hugely, then froze when something on his lap moved. Moving very slowly, the psychic carefully looked down, and stared into the curious and sleepy blue eyes of a Pokémon.

It reminded Harry strongly of a Pikachu, but much smaller, with large triangular ears that were outlined in a thick streak of black, until it reached the tips, were it spiked down like the points of an "M". Two large pink circles, like heavily and badly applied blush, rested just under its two large, round dark blue eyes. Around its neck was a black circle of fur that dripped down in sharp spike-like designs. It stared up at him curiously, and Harry slowly lowered his hands down to his sides. The little yellow mouse's ears and black tail (which looked a bit like the little red flag-things on a mailbox) shivered alertly, and Harry carefully moved one hand, slowly, giving the Pokémon plenty of time to move. When it didn't, his fingertips gently touched its head, right behind one of those ears, and rubbed.

Instantly, the Pokémon seemed to melt, cooing happily and pressing against his hand, rubbing its head against his fingers much like a cat. Harry smiled and lifted his other hand to carefully rub behind the other ear, sending the small mouse-Pokémon into a blissful heap, all but purring.

"Aren't you just adorable," the boy murmured, cooing softly and continuing to pet the cute little Pokémon. He stopped after a few minutes, and relaxed back against the couch, laying a gentle hand on the fragile-seeming Pokémon's back, smiling as it snuggled into his stomach, smiling happily. After ten minutes, the Pokémon had fallen asleep, and Harry idly stroked it's tiny back soothingly. Staring into the air, he slipped into his mind, and was immediately surrounded by the pulsing, glowing green of what he'd come to think of as Mischief's home.

"You are a magnet," the Mew announced, floating around him easily. Harry turned with him, smiling slightly.

"Why do you say that?" The Mew snorted and flipped, once, before falling still, floating at eye-level with the eleven-year-old.

"You collect people and Pokémon, not usually for yourself, but in general. You can't stay in one place for long, without someone or something focusing on you, if only for a few minutes. It is a curse and a blessing." Harry stared at him, smiled slightly, and shrugged.

"What're you to do, eh?" Mischief chuckled, flipped, and floated away, humming something under his breath as he slipped away. Blinking back into the real world, Harry glanced around the room, and saw that Mr. Pokémon was in the kitchen, the door open. Carefully standing, lifting the still-sleeping mouse-Pokémon with him, the eleven-year-old padded into the kitchen; only just noticing he'd slept in still-damp shoes.

Bemused, he sat at the table, getting a cheerful nod from the blue-and-silver-haired Egg Expert, who looked at the small Pokémon in Harry's arms with a fond amusement. Harry watched the older man move around with the ease of someone who had been cooking for himself most of his life. Harry appreciated the ease and practice the older man exerted as he went through the motions of making scrambled eggs and hashbrowns.

"I see Pichu found someone to sleep with last night," the Researcher murmured as he carefully sat a plate for Harry in front of him, with a small bowl of soft Pokémon food. Pichu, the mouse-Pokémon Harry peered down at now, curiously, shifted slightly, tiny nose sniffing cutely. It's ears quivered, tail lifting slightly, and leaned its sleeping face towards the food, sniffing adorably. Slowly, its eyes blinked sleepily open, locked on the food, and brightened considerably.

"Pi!" it cried, scrambling up onto the table and grabbing two handfuls of food, stuffing most of it into it's tiny mouth, while some still covered it's cheeks and chin. Cooing happily, the little electric-type scarfed more food while Harry and Mr. Pokémon ate their own meals, watching with amused fondness.

When the small Pokémon was finished, Harry silently got up, dampened a paper-towel, and returned to sit at the table. Smiling kindly, he cleaned the tiny Pokémon's face with small, soft swipes. Pichu crinkled its face in a toddler's expression of distaste, and Harry flinched slightly as static sparked from its cheeks, stinging and burning his wet fingers.

"Stop that," he scolded gently, softly, ignoring the small zaps and zings of pain as he resolutely continued cleaning. Taking the Pichu's tiny, mitten-like hands in his own, the psychic calmly and gently whipped the food from them, then put the dirty paper-towel on his empty plate. "All done now, little one," he cooed, lifting the still pouting Pokémon into his lap. Instantly, it snuggled close, whipping still-damp cheeks and hands on Harry's shirt, making his muscles twitch as small stings of Static sparked against him, but he didn't react otherwise, except to stroke the tiny Pokémon's back with a soft smile.

"Pichu hatched from his egg four days ago," Mr. Pokémon told the boy, watching thoughtfully. "He's nocturnal for the most part, and has discovered that I'll let him wander the house a long as he finds somewhere warm to sleep near the fire, or can climb in with me sometime." Harry smiled at the little mouse, and chucked him gently under the chin, making him give a soft squeak sound of shock, then laugh and send his little cheeks to sparking.

"He's cute," Harry told the older man, cooing and tickling the little mouse's chin, making it purr slightly. Mr. Pokémon smiled.

"His eye's will stay blue until he's about two weeks old, then they'll darken to some shade of brown, orange, or green. Did you know that a Pichu will only evolve into a Pikachu when a strong, healthy friendship is formed between it and another?" Harry shook his head, curious. "And that person doesn't even have to be human. That's why there are wild Pikachu. A Pichu creates a strong friendship or familial bond with someone it trusts and cares for, and someone who cares and loves it as well. They're social and like having large families. It's believed that this is because there can be as many as seven Pichu-eggs laid every three months to one pair of Pikachu's or Raichu's."

"That's a lot, isn't it?" Harry asked, frowning curiously. Mr. Pokémon nodded, and both humans nodded to Thad and Lyn when the two of them staggered in, grabbing a plate each, and sat at the table.

"Ric's taking care of Egg," Lyn said sleepily, before digging into her food. Harry nodded distractedly, eagerly turning his attention back to Mr. Pokémon. Obviously charmed by the interest the much younger male was showing, Mr. Pokémon refrained (barely) from preening. Clearing his throat, he continued his miniature lecture.

"You see, Harry, all mouse-type Pokémon breed as frequently, and in the same large numbers, as their non-Pokémon brethren. And, like their own non-Pokémon relatives, cat and dog-like Pokémon, as well as most predator-like Pokémon actually, often hunt the same prey. There is a reason, after all, why we are not overrun by Rattatas' or the Electric-Mouse family, like that little one," he smiled as Pichu climbed onto Harry's shoulder, and set about nibbling at one of his spikes, watching Lyn and Thad curiously, but warily, as he snuggled against Harry's cheek.

"What's that?" Thad asked, peering at the Pokémon curiously. Harry smiled.

"Thad, meet baby Pichu," the psychic said easily. "Mr. Pokémon hatched this little guy… four days ago, right?" He glanced at the older man, who nodded with a smile.

"Neat," the blond-haired boy announced, and promptly went back to his meal. Harry chuckled while Lyn rolled her eyes. Ric padded in, backpack in hand, along with Harry's. As he was already finished, Harry gave the sleepy boy his seat, took his bag and empty plate, and went to the sink. Carefully washing his plate, moving slowly so that Pichu didn't fall or get scared, Harry set it aside, rinsed the sink, and set it to filling with cool water. When it was full, he opened his bag, took the Egg-Reader off of the egg, and set his watch for five minutes as he carefully set the egg in the water, watching it.

"Pichu?" Pichu asked curiously, cocking his head curiously. He started to touch the water, having jumped onto the countertop; but Harry gently lifted him away, smiling softly.

"Sorry, baby, but can't have you accidentally zapping my egg." Pichu looked up at him, ears quivering and twitching as he cocked his head cutely to the side.

"Chu!" He suddenly exclaimed, beaming, cheeks sparking erratically as he launched himself out of Harry's hands to wrap his tiny, baby-soft, and toddler-pudgy arms around the startled psychic's neck. Eyes immediately softening, heart melting, the short boy wrapped his hands around the tiny Pokémon, smiling softly as one of those sparking, slightly-painful cheeks rubbed happily against his own, and the baby Pokémon laughed happily, snuggling into his chest, tail wagging.

"He's really good with baby Pokémon," Thad murmured, staring wistfully as Harry unconsciously rocked back and forth, swaying, as he hummed under his breath and cuddled with Pichu. Lyn, Ric, and Mr. Pokémon all nodded, watching. After a few minutes, though, Harry's watch beeped, and he set Pichu down in order to lift his egg from the water and dab it dry with a paper-towel. Wrapping some of said-towels, wetted and now damp and cool, around the egg, Harry's set it back into its makeshift nest in his bag.

"What's that noise?" Thad asked, looking around, seconds after Pichu had fallen still on his place on the counter, ears twitching and tail up, head cocked. A faint, insistent beeping was coming from the other room, and Mr. Pokémon was up, and jogging towards it milliseconds later. Curious, the four children, and Pichu, followed. The Researcher disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall that they weren't supposed to go into, so they waited in the living room, slightly worried. Five minutes later, he returned, face grim and hard.

"You have to hurry back to New Bark," He told them seriously; Harry straightened, frowning.

"What's happened?" He demanded; Mr. Pokémon gently took an upset-looking Pichu from the unresisting boy, and met his eyes quietly.

"Someone stole some of Elm's Pokémon," he said quietly, "And tried to burn the Lab down." Lyn gasped, and Harry's face stiffened, sliding toward cold.

"What else?" Thad asked grimly; Mr. Pokémon looked at him silently, then returned his eyes to Harry's.

"Derek was in the Lab when they set it on fire," he said quietly. "He's in the hospital." Harry's entire body stiffened, and rage warred with horror in his eyes, but he fought both back, strangling them, until his mind cleared enough that he could trust himself to speak.

"Lets go," he said, voice quiet, and quite dangerous sounding. No one complained, packing their things and hurrying out the door. Harry paused, and stroked gentle fingers across Pichu's head, eyes saddening, before nodding firmly to Mr. Pokémon.

"It was nice meeting you, sir," he said quietly; the grim-faced man managed a thin smile.

"Tread carefully, young Harry," he cautioned; Harry nodded, turned, and jogged after his friends, who waited at the edge of the trees. He walked past them and disappeared, Thad following, then Ric. Lyn gave one last wave to the Researcher, and disappeared into the shadows after her friends. In seconds, it was like none of them had bee there. Staring at where they'd stood, Mr. Pokémon stroked the baby Pokémon in his arms gently, and closed the door, locking it. Silently, he made his way to his office, past a large incubator that held four eggs near hatching, and sat behind his desk, cuddling the small mouse to him.

Reaching for the phone, he made a few calls, and then stared into space, thoughts on the four children he'd shared his home with that night…

And to the one who was in the hospital, hurt and probably scared.

Suddenly feeling decades older, the Researcher closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Pichu slightly, making the baby Pokémon snuggle closer, sensing his distress, and coo soothingly. He felt some small measure of comfort at that, and silently prayed that Derek had a Pokémon to hold as well, or, at least, something close to it.

A/N: Oh no's! What's happened to Professor Elm's son? Will the culprits be caught? Or, rather, when they are, will they still be alive? R&R!