Disclaimer: Pokémon is still owned by The Pokémon Company, which in turn is owned by Nintendo, Game Freak, and probably others I forgot. The following fanfiction is me playing around in their sandbox, using characters they envisioned and created, except for the odd character that wasn't. I own nothing of this.

Chapter 21: Managing Fallout

It was noon, or thereabouts, when a dragonite deposited the Grand Champion of Kanto and Johto on a rocky island in the middle of practically nowhere. Only one island was visible in the distance, though with better weather, Lance knew the Slateport beach would be visible if you were on the back of a low-flying Pokémon.

He looked around, idly reaching into a pocket for a few spicy Pokéblocks to feed the dragon who'd just flown close to three hours without tiring. Around the Champion and his starter, various Dragon-types skittered about, uncaring of the Pokémon landing or the human standing there. A bagon and a young gible were the only ones that gave him any attention, though they went on with their business when two other Pokémon nearby cried out.

A stretch removed all the knots and kinks of being stuck in one position during the flight here, but something caught Lance's eye in the middle of it. Up on the cliff above him, he saw something… White. Just for a second – it vanished from sight pretty much as soon as he focused his eyes there – but before Lance could wonder which Pokémon it could have been, it revealed itself to be a drampa, who let out a keening cry that rang clarion-clear across the island, its head hanging over the cliff's edge, glancing down before vanishing once more.

The Dragon Master was uncertain what the cry was for: it was friendly, as drampa were wont to be, but it did not come down as he had expected. That was unlike the drampa he had met before, though admittedly, he had met only three, and he didn't own one himself. They were a rare and protected species who lived exclusively on the Alolan islands.

He hadn't even known Reginald had one, but he did remember that the Gym Leader had taken a holiday to Alola sometime in early April; a week that saw nothing but the normal amount of Pokémon attacks in Hoenn.

The fact that there was a normal to speak of was rather depressing.

Several small rocks clattered down, and a look up revealed the drampa gliding down from the cliff, a familiar man on its back. The green and white Dragon-type landed gracefully, and Reginald dismounted equally gracefully, one hand on the drampa's neck as thanks. "Thank you for taking time out of your schedule, Lance."

Lance shook his head. "Steven understood." If not knew outright the reason. Hoenn's Grand Champion was shrewd and sympathetic, though by-laws and personal preference hindered outright support. "I had wanted to speak to you regardless, though yesterday's events… Pushed it up the ladder of importance."

"Indeed." The Gym Leader sat down against a rock, inviting the Champion to do the same. "Perhaps my memory has started to wane, but I do not recall us giving the boys permission to engage with Team Flare, yet this is the third confirmed time that they have."

"We did not," Lance confirmed as his dragonite took off into the skies, eager to fly freely without the encumbrance of his trainer. "I also believe that this is a good thing, and hardly a threat to the secrecy of the endeavour. In fact, I was certain that things would transpire this way."

Reginald shot him a long and piercing look, though hardly one Lance couldn't withstand, despite the difference in age. "It is not my place to presume or demand, but I would like to receive an elaboration on that."

"You need only look at the statement Max Maple made in that press conference after New Mauville," Lance replied as his dragonite started showing off with various aerobatic manoeuvres, starting by throwing up a wall of spray as air pressure from flying low forced the calm sea out of the way. "He genuinely detests those who would use Pokémon for evil."

"That seems simplistic."

"To us adults, yes," Lance readily agreed. "But the world is simpler at his age, more binary: good and evil and all of that." A sudden wave of melancholy nostalgia washed over him. "At some level, that is enviable. A world that simple would make life easy for us."

"This coming from one who was most impressed with the boy's performance in the Ever Grande Conference, praising specifically, and correct me if I'm wrong..."

"His use of strategy beyond his years," Lance finished for Reginald, looking left and seeing the Gym Leader nod gravely. "The two do not necessarily contradict. You forget that everyone has that one thing that drives them utterly. For Maple, it is most definitely as outlined." His fingers tapped the ground. "I am less certain on how the three of them – and that is a surprise in and of itself – found themselves in the museum at three in the morning."

"A Pokémon watching could have been sufficient for their needs," Reginald opined as a dragonair joined dragonite in the air, the two spiralling around each other in a dance that would have caught many an eye, if there were any to see it.

Then again, Kingship was the next island over, and Lance presumed they were used to the Dragons on the island doing anything short of levelling the island. Blackthornites sure were. "Maybe," Lance said, a hand making a wobbling motion, "but it doesn't fit with them. They have Pokémon for it, but… It's not their style." He sighed deeply. "I should probably try to find out."

"A spot of sight-seeing on your next trip could be beneficial." A knowing look greeted Lance when he turned his head; self-satisfaction dancing around shaven cheeks. "Knowledge is power, and I do prefer to know a lot. Is it just for the Champion's League, or..."

"Officially, yes." A nod followed. "Anything you'd like me to find out?"

"It is not my place to ask," Reginald said evasively as a shelgon waddled up, the arm moving to scratch it almost automatic. "Hoenn alone is my responsibility."

"And you are also one of the few to see and know the bigger picture," Lance countered. "Your acumen is second to none."

"If you insist..." Reginald quickly made his two requests, and Lance then realised that the Gym Leader had probably played him. They were too detailed to be anything remotely spur of the moment. "And speaking of the attacks..."

"I expect nothing new has arisen in the past weeks?" Except for continued attacks, but they were a Hoenn fact of life, sadly.

"Apart from the new government sparing time nor effort nor money in their attempts to peddle lies and push their narrative?" Reginald spat bitterly, the vehemence and the sudden change in demeanour taking Lance aback. "They've scaled back their collaboration with my agents, citing a lack of proper evidence and results; put one of the worst options in charge of their own investigation and rumours abound of restrictions on the affected types."

Most of the rant, Lance understood instinctively. Politicians were always a fickle group, and dialga knew he would rather see them gone, replaced by technocrats to spare him the endless bickering. "Worst options? What can you tell me?"

"Lord Cavendish has been reluctant, even recalcitrant, about advice in the past, when he held a post in a previous government. It seems unlikely time will have mended that," Reginald said curtly. "My network also tells me he is vocally adamant that restrictions should be placed on the types, despite the mountain of evidence that restrictions do not work and have never worked."

"What kind of restrictions are we talking about?"

"Mandatory education on the 'dangers of Dark, Ghost, and Psychic-types'," Reginald said, drawling part of the sentence in a way that made Lance suspect it was an impression. "And some form of active Pokémon restriction, though palkia only knows if it'll be a license or an age limit. The factions appear torn on that." The Gym Leader seemed disgusted by the options, and Lance found himself in agreement. "And until I have evidence that doesn't consist of an illegal operation and conjecture, I can't step forward to set the record straight. It is most vexing."

~~§~~§~~

The seviper lunged towards baltoy, the sharp tail glowing an ominous purple as it sliced right through the wall of Psychic energy that baltoy was projecting in front of him. The Night Slash hit home, and baltoy flew back, his levitation failing as well. The landing was hard, the skid long, and the unconsciousness inevitable. The poison seviper had inflicted early on hadn't helped either.

A defeat, but a good battle anyway. Maybe xatu could have done better, but that Night Slash had been a nasty surprise. "Well done," Max said as he met his opponent in the middle, noticing a few charred spots on the stone. Bagon and magmar had gone all-out, to the point of the third Trainer there having to use a prinplup to put out a few fires. "Seviper and crawdaunt, huh. You ever been to Hoenn?"

His opponent; a girl of about fifteen, slightly taller than him with long honey-blonde hair, gave him a confident smile as they shook hands. "Going back in a week Max," she said. The mention of his name – which he had never told her – made him step back. "Jeez. Paranoid much? I was at the Ever Grande Conference last December, but I only had seven badges then."

"That doesn't exactly explain how you know my name. Unless..."

The girl opposite him jerked her head, straightening her hair with the movement, the smile still present. "You look the same as back then. I knew your name before you said you wanted a battle, and it was a good one. As I expected from a top 32 Trainer in Ever Grande."

"Still can't bloody believe that," said a pale and tall teen, his accent thick and foreign to Max's ears. It wasn't Kalosian or anything Max had heard before. "'e does look the same, all of 'im. Hasn't even hit 'is growth spurt yet, the squirt. You're taller than 'im, Elise, 'n you're tiny!"

"Can't all be six foot something at fourteen, Euan," the girl said with a roll of her eyes. "Don't see you challenging him either."

"Maybe tomorrow, if that's okay with ya, Max. Got the move trainin' for today."

"He only does one training thing a day," Elise stage-whispered for Max's benefit. "Instead of normal Trainers doing it here, there, and everywhere."

They vacated the field, Euan sending out a few more of his Pokémon and giving them short instructions in that thick accent. They all understood it, and the four paired off. A marowak soon started launching jets of fire at the prinplup, while a skuntank dodged around a doublade slashing at it. Slashing… "Is that Night Slash?"

Euan nodded, even though his back was to them. "Sure is. Took the idea from Elise, too, with 'er crawdaunt knowing it and teaching it to that snake."

Oh, Max had noticed that. "Can you teach my honedge how to do it? Or at least the basics?"

"You have a honedge?" Elise put a hand in her side, looking exasperated. "Why didn't you use it against seviper? Immune to poison and all that."

"He's not here," Max said, imitating Elise's pose for a few seconds, and they dropped it at the same time. Max resisted the urge to call jinx. "Had to pick between baltoy and xatu. Sceptile and clefairy are..." He spread his hands, figuring the experienced Trainers would understand.

Elise did, but she turned to her companion afterwards. "Hey, Euan, didn't you say sceptile can learn Night Slash too?"

"Either that, or the Hoenn Grass Leader was cheatin' with a zoroark!" Euan replied, the light tone enough to take the sting out of the accusation. "You wanna do the training first tomorrow, Max? Tires your Pokémon out so I've a chance!"

All of them laughed; the honesty refreshing and just what Max needed. "Sorry, I don't do easy fights. I'm not my Dad!" he said as took his glasses off, his ear once again itchy from the slightly too small frame. "Ugh, really need to get a replacement," he muttered.

Not quietly enough, it seemed. "I can take you to my uncle's. He's an optometrist here in Durocor, and you really do look like your glasses are too small for you. Is it your spare pair?"

Max tucked the glasses into the collar of his t-shirt, content to not wear any for now. He saw enough of the world to not crash into something while standing still anyway. "Yeah. Real pair got destroyed a couple days back. Lenses shattered, frame cracked, that sort of thing." He saw Elise nod. "How far is it to your uncle's?"

"Three miles? Maybe four? Would need to wait for lunch break..."

Max sent out a Pokémon. "Xatu knows Teleport."

"That'd speed things up," Elise observed drily, and Max heard Euan snort. "Oh, and you don't need to tell me, but… Did you hurt your wrist the same time as you broke your glasses? Sometime very early?"

Max resisted the urge to splutter indignantly. He wasn't used to complete strangers guessing stuff about him that easily. He knew they weren't staying in the Center Max, Danny, and Serena were in, and while a few there had noticed, nobody out on the street had. "What gave it away?"

"You're not a lefty and you did capture that Team Aqua guy," Elise said nonchalantly, as if capturing wanted criminals was an everyday occurrence. "Don't worry. I've got a stupid weird memory for stuff like this. Comes in useful sometimes."

Max could imagine, though he wasn't quite sure what to reply to it. In the end, he settled on something neutral. "So… Glasses? Before they're closed for lunch anyway?"

~~§~~§~~

Professor Augustine Sycamore ended the call with the Durocor police with a sigh and a frown that felt unwarranted to some degree. Objectively, even partially thwarting a Team Flare raid such as that was a great success in keeping Kalos safe, and in keeping Mega Evolutions out of the hands of those who would use it for evil. If they had gotten away with all of the Mega Stones, it would have been a disaster. That only a gyaradosite, aggronite, and audinite were in their hands was a success given how utterly outnumbered the guards had been. Powerful Mega Stones, for sure, but Sycamore had personally lent a houndoominite to the museum, which would have given them a guaranteed Mega Evolution.

At least now there was the rarity of the Pokémon to consider. Audino were only native to Unova, aggron were rare in general, and gyarados were temperamental Pokémon many people refused to deal with if at all possible. Of all the ones that could have been stolen, these were probably the best options.

It was a disgustingly pragmatic way of looking at the incident, but after all the successes Team Flare had had – Coumarine was still the only time they had been thwarted fully – it made sense to do so. There were other instances of their attacks being interrupted, but not a lot.

And two of those had been with the help of two Trainers who should not even be involved in the first place.

The moment Sycamore had heard from the police department that a trio of Trainers had helped fight everyone off, he had had a sneaking suspicion he knew the names of the Trainers, and those had been validated later, when said trio had wanted to exchange Pokémon. He had not asked them outright, but the wry looks sent his way when he asked if the three had had an interesting night had been enough information for him to conclude that it had been them. The suspicious bandage had been a large clue as well.

Luckily, the official police communication towards the media had been customarily vague in identifying the helping trainers, only referring to the teenagers as a group, and not mentioning age or gender. It was something, at least, but it did make him wonder… Why were they there? How had they known? Coumarine had been simple luck as one of them spotted Team Flare, but this took place at three in the morning, and about a mile away from the Pokémon Center. The distance itself wasn't the issue, what with a natu being on Max's team extensively over the last two months, but it did rule out simple eavesdropping or similar.

He rose from his chair, walking over to the refrigerator and pouring himself some ice water, wishing that he could kick back and drink something stronger. Alas, it was only two in the afternoon, and therefore far too early to do that. He lifted the glass to his lips, but he could only sip the water before another call came through, sending him into a coughing fit as the sudden sound caused the Pokémon Professor to jerk instinctively. Part of the water spilled, sloshing onto his coat and trousers.

The number was a familiar one, belonging to one of the broadcasters based here in Lumiose, and Sycamore was reasonably certain he knew what the call was going to entail.

He was right, too, but luckily they offered to do the interview by videophone instead of in their studio. He hadn't much fancied going across town on short notice, and there was a new Trainer coming after three as well.

~~§~~§~~

James walked back into their comfortable living room after two days of hard negotiating with a Durocor-based company. Both Jessie and meowth were there, predictably watching the six o'clock news. "Well, it seems our little experiment worked out even better than I was expecting."

"Wat did ya do to get da twerp to go along with it?" meowth wondered from his curled-up position on the carpet. "And why's it better dan you were expectin'?"

James dropped into his chair, feeling the comfortable cool leather adjust itself to his warm body. That air conditioning unit was worth all of the money they had spent on it. The broadcaster was currently interviewing the local Pokémon Professor about his research. "Just think about it. Three teenagers doing more than the police did to stop Team Flare is beneficial both for Team Rocket and for Phlis."

"Explain?" Jessie asked, regarding him coolly.

"Team Rocket benefits because we keep those twerps off us, and on Team Flare. And, of course, anything that hinders Team Flare benefits us. Influence is not quite zero sum, but close to it," James analysed before leaning over to the coffee table and pouring himself a glass of water. "Even better, Team Flare only made away with three Mega Stones."

"Weren't dey supposed ta stop Team Flare?"

James scoffed. "If that had happened, I would have dropped by the bookmaker's office to place a bet on one of the twerps for winning the Kalos League. They had a lot more people on the ground than in any other operation. Perhaps they weren't as well-trained, but they probably weren't expecting to face more than guards either."

"And how does Phlis get out better?" Jessie asked as she rose, casually tossing a banana peel into the open garbage can.

The executive smirked. "If the police can't protect you, what do you turn to for protecting hearth and home, or museum?" He saw understanding dawn on his partner's face. "Exactly."

"Wat I don't understand," meowth started as they ate dinner about an hour later; the cat Pokémon using his claws to slice up a steak. "How did ya get da twerp to go along with your plan? He's da smart kid."

"Everyone has a price, meowth. He is no exception."

"Just tell us everything already. I'm not in the mood for your riddles," Jessie snapped from over her fish salad.

James glowered. "Fine, if you insist. The twerp is still a twerp, and that means he's loyal to his friends. I found them last Friday, made a few photographs of them with an instant camera and wrote a threatening note about how we had people in place to hurt his friends unless he did exactly what we asked." James speared a piece of his own steak on his fork. "Blackmail is so effective."

"But ya didn't have anyone dere."

"My dear meowth," James said after he was done chewing, in part because it felt right and in part because he knew it annoyed the cat. "We know that. But isn't the point of operatives to remain hidden? He didn't know I was alone, and he took the bait hook, line, and sinker. It was almost too easy."

"You don't think he'll connect you to Team Rocket activity in Kalos?"

"He will," James answered, seeing Jessie glare at him. "Think about it. I had to reveal myself in order to make the threat work, and he is familiar with Team Rocket. He will know we have an interest in the region." James calmly took a sip of his wine as his partner started working herself into a bit of a storm. "But who is he going to tell? It's just his word. Nobody important would believe a thirteen year old, and the ones who would aren't here. It is a risk, but one I weighed extensively."

Silence fell, Jessie's rage at least tempered for now. "Ya know," meowth said at length. "Ya really got a good head for dat risk-reward type stuff. Guess dat's why da Boss wanted you in charge."

"Well, after mew knows how long of crafting plans, I'd like to think I have a decent idea of what will work and what won't." James went back to eating his dinner, but as he started chewing, he remembered one more thing. "Oh, and they got injured somehow. The twerp's best friend had a bandage around his head and the girl with them was using crutches. Not sure if the twerp himself had anything happen to him..."

"How'd ya figure dat out?"

"The negotiations took place in the same street as the police station, and I happened to be looking out the window."

~~§~~§~~

At this time in the evening, even in summer, kid's playgrounds were generally abandoned, and tonight was no exception. The sun was setting, already gone from Serena's view as buildings and trees blocked it, leaving only the orange sky with a tiny bit of cloud cover. Most importantly, nobody else was there, and she welcomed the quiet.

All of them, Serena included, had been looked at weirdly, or asked questions, for most of the past two days. The police hadn't said who they were in their reports on the museum attack, but a few people in the Pokémon Center had figured it out, and a couple of them had been brave enough to ask them what it had been like.

They had been able to point to the police, who had asked them to not discuss stuff from the investigation, but after being asked the same question about half a dozen times, it was getting old. Fast. She now understood Max's leaving the Center early that morning a lot better.

She put her crutch down onto the rubber tiles underneath the swings. The walking aid was probably not really needed, but after spending months using one because of the torn ligaments in her knee, Serena knew that something feeling okay to walk on was not necessarily actually okay to walk on. She liked playing it safe, and so she used the crutch.

It wasn't as if they were out on the road, heading towards Dendemille Town and her next Showcase in a bit less than two weeks. Danny and Max had been categorically against that, saying things about their injuries while suspiciously not mentioning her ankle.

Serena appreciated the gesture, though she thought she had the easiest time dealing with her injury. Experience counted for something, and she had a lot of it. The fact that both of them had been out and about doing stuff for most of the day also didn't cause her to think their reasons were any good.

It was a bit cute how the two boys were all tough one moment, and then seemed to feel all protective about her the next. Serena held no illusions that they would probably stop if she asked them to, but why should she? It was amusing and harmless.

The swing next to her creaked with sudden weight, and Serena looked right to see Danny sit down on the rubber seat. The bandage on his head looked new, too, but a bit… Weird. Off-centre. "Nurse Joy was busy?"

Danny nodded before pushing off, setting the swing in motion a tiny bit. "It's not that bad, right? It feels okay, at least."

"Dunno. Ask Nurse Joy how good it is," Serena quipped, sticking her tongue out when Danny did a half-roll of his eyes. "Who held it in place? Max?"

"Froslass. Wasted some bandages on it too: she forgot to reign in her cold aura."

"It's probably good enough anyway," Serena said as she studied it. "Most of the bleeding stopped, right?"

"Yeah. There was some blood, but that might also have been from taking Nurse Joy's bandage off. I felt some tearing when I did that." He stopped his swinging, turning his head in her direction. "It'll heal. But enough about me. Are you okay after… After what we told you yesterday?"

The Kalosian teenager sighed deeply before pushing off with one foot, easily counterbalancing the swing. Danny followed suit. "You lied. Again. I… I don't know what to think about that," she said honestly, looking straight ahead at the rest of the playground. "I mean, I get why you needed to keep it secret, but… It still stings."

No reply came, and they swung in silence for maybe a minute, the motion oddly calming. Serena found herself quickly wanting to swing higher and faster, but she squashed that idea. Talking was hard when you did that, and they weren't done, she knew that. "Is there more you want to know?"

Serena glanced sideways, seeing an unmoving swing, and she stopped as well, using her healthy foot to brake on the rubber underneath. "Why did you join? Both of you, I mean."

Danny had to dig deep to find an answer, scrunching up his face in thought and opening his mouth at least two times before actually starting to speak. "Me… I thought it was just going to be report on what's happening. Maybe do some stuff like you see in spy films." He looked almost amused at himself when he told Serena that. "Yeah, I was wrong. Max being… Max really doesn't help."

She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her when she saw Danny look all that fond and… Exasperated? Was that the word Max used for it? "And Max?" Serena wondered, only to see Danny's expression change to one of deep thought once again. "Danny? If you want me to ask Max, it's fine."

"No." Danny's reply was fierce and immediate. "You deserve an answer. It's just… I'm looking for the right words." A soft sigh; his hand rubbing against the bandage. "You remember what Max hates, right? People using Pokémon to hurt other people or Pokémon."

Serena nodded cautiously, wondering where Danny was going with this.

"Max never told me why he joined, but it's probably to do with that. A lot. It's not like he doesn't hate criminals, like he said in that press conference," Danny continued, reminding Serena of the surreal experience of seeing the two boys answer questions in a Gym. They'd found a recording online a while back. "But he really doesn't want to see people or Pokémon hurt by villainous teams. That's what made him accept, I think."

"Like Team Flare, and Team Rocket," Serena added softly, the clarification more for herself, but Danny nodded anyway. "Were Aqua and Magma like that too?"

"I don't think they mattered as much." A hand stopped Serena from speaking. "They did some attacks – Max will know more details – but Team Rocket was after Ash's pikachu, and they tried a lot. Aqua and Magma tried to do stuff on a bigger scale, but numbers do count for something."

Silence fell as Danny finished, Serena thinking about everything she had heard. It wasn't anything really new – everything made a lot of sense with what she had seen of Danny and Max – but it was something else to hear it from their mouth. She also knew there was one more thing, but it felt wrong to ask Danny about that.

It was kinda dark when she next looked up, the nearest street light not yet on or not working as the sun was setting. "Danny?" the teenager from Vaniville said, prompting the boy to stop swinging, shoes making a squeaky sound on the rubber. "You didn't want to go to the museum, right? Why did you go anyway?"

"I thought it was… Well, you know,' Danny told her, shrugging expressively; the movement somehow telling Serena everything. "But someone has to keep Max out of too much trouble. Especially after Coumarine." Then, softer, almost like a stage whisper. "I don't think it's working."

Oh, xerneas, that laugh felt good, soothing warmth spreading through her body. "It isn't. He does what he wants, and that's that."

"He wouldn't be Max otherwise."

"Uhuh." A light flickered on. "You wanna go back? It's getting late, and maybe we can sneak in now."

"Sure," Danny agreed, getting up and grabbing Serena's crutch for her. "Sneak in, by the way? Why's that? The questions?"

"Yeah… It's just… Can't they mind their own business?"

Danny smiled softly. "We did stop Team Flare. That's rare." He cocked his head. "And I'm a poet and I didn't know it."

A giggle vied with annoyance in her chest. The latter won. "That doesn't mean they should ask the same questions over and over again. It's stupid."

To Serena's surprise, Danny let out a sharp laugh – loud and full – at her statement. "Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just that Max could have said the exact same thing. He's said similar stuff before."

"About the Team Aqua thing?"

"And more than a few other things too."

They started walking, moving along at a normal pace. "Like what?" Serena asked as they walked onto a well-lit street, a few others walking around while a pair of cyclists passed them as soon as they turned right towards the Center. "That was the only time you had people asking you questions, right?"

"Do you remember what Max and I are?" Danny asked. The question stumped Serena for a second, and he nodded in return. "He's a Gym Leader's son. I'm the Professor's nephew. People expected things of us." A fire engine whirred into life a few streets over, the siren loud and insistent. "Max has complained about that a lot."

Serena still didn't understand. "But you are good Trainers. You got far in the Hoenn League, right?"

Danny put a hand on Serena's shoulder, stopping her, and she turned to face him. The taller teen had a weird glint in his eye. Or maybe it was the light. "Imagine you're in a rhyhorn race. You win, or maybe you don't. But whatever you do, you get asked about your mother at least three out of four times. About how talent runs in the family, or if you're going to be as successful as her, or something. And sometimes, people ask the same thing of you on the streets, after a random battle. Or they say they lost because of who you are." He sighed, continuing a lot less… dark. "That's what we sometimes had. I didn't care too much, but Max… He's always had problems putting what others think out of his mind. Not like peer pressure, but… He just can't understand."

A light went on in Serena's brain, the connection obvious now that she had actually made it. "Oh. It's like celebrity gossip. You expect them to act a certain way even when they're free."

They resumed walking, but not before Danny nodded. "Yeah. That's about it."

"Sucks to be you."

"Oh, go far in the Master Class Showcase and you'll know what it's about."

"If you say so."

"I do."

Serena didn't even need to look at her friend to know that he was sticking his tongue out, but that was okay. They were friends for a reason, and if they couldn't tease each other a bit, what good was their friendship anyway?

~~§~~§~~§~~§~~

Move compatibility is a strange phenomenon, and even official guides are often inaccurate or incomplete. You can't always assume that even Pokémon in the same evolutionary family can learn the same moves. Just think about the nincada and teddiursa families! Nincada can learn Dig, but neither ninjask nor shedinja can, and ursaring's Charm is a lot less effective than teddiursa's, for obvious reasons. These are rare occasions, and most Pokémon get more move diversity when they evolve. But it's also important to practice, and for your Pokémon to know the moves they use in battle inside and out. A few good moves are always more effective than a dozen bad moves!

From: Pokémon Illustrated

Author's Note: The results of last chapter's night-time excursion from four different points of view, and then there's Max who's used to stuff like this. Blame canon for that.

Also, officially past the word count of the prequel to this, and we're not even close to done...