*~*The Felicities and Fallacies of Pokémon Training*~*
Chapter Sixth: Infatuation
Written by the Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
Author's Notes: As usual, thanks for any reviews that have been submitted to my story. I hope that you will continue to read and enjoy it. Oh, and take a look at the title of each chapter. Do you notice any sort of theme? Well, in case you don't I'll tell you in the Concluding Statements. Come on; think! I know you can do it... — The Duke of Briarcliffe
*~*
"We all dream; we do not understand our dreams, yet we act as if nothing strange goes on in our sleep minds, strange at least by comparison with the logical, purposeful doings of our minds when we are awake." —Erich Fromm, author of The Forgotten Language
*~*
As Mr. Fromm said, we all dream. Without them, I am sure that more than half of the people in this world wouldn't know what they would like to aspire to. As we all know, Duncan Beechcombe wanted to become a Grass Element Gym Leader, but, although he isn't the main character in the story, isn't Madison Ketchum just as likely to have dreams and aspirations? Yes, he is. Naturally, he wanted to maintain the Cerulean Gym.
His situation wasn't like many others. Ms. Waterflower didn't apply any pressure to her son as far as the inheritance thing went. This was of his own free will. He wanted to take over the Gym. And why should anyone stop him? He was more qualified than most and he was a courageous sort by nature. He would make an excellent Leader.
But there was one thing that he couldn't quite master. Yes, although he seems like the most well-rounded person that you may know, he did have one minor flaw. Sadly, yet true, Madison was a blubbering fool when around a girl that he was infatuated with. He couldn't look them in the eyes, he'd inherited the nasty tendency from his mother—his semi-pale skin, but he worked hard for his light tan—that made every flush noticeable; in some of the more severe cases, he broke out in a sweat and—translate this!—il a eu un chat dans la gorge. To Duncan, his behavior wasn't anything less than hilarious.
Duncan was usually the one who did all the talking because he was usually the suave, debonair type; that is, when the girls didn't know anything about his family or usual over-confidence. In other words, he was the matchmaker of the two. And, a few of the times, the girl actually fell for Duncan, much to Madison's dismay.
Anyways, back to the fan-fiction. At that moment, Madison and Duncan were ambling down Bijou Boulevard once again. It was a long street and had hundreds of perfumeries and cafés. It was morning-time and the cars slowly sped down the street in order to get to their workplaces. And the sky wasn't the only thing gray from the night before...
Duncan wore a grave expression on his face and Madison wondered what was going on in that mind of his. Duncan was never the type to openly come out and express his most heartfelt feelings and Madison wasn't sure how to extract those feelings from his head. He firmly believed that when the time came—when Duncan couldn't retain it any longer—he would spill out his thoughts like a faucet, continually. Hopefully, that time would be soon, because he didn't exactly like the way his roommate was looking.
"Take a picture, it'll last much longer," he grumbled as he walked on. His hair was messy: not neatly-gelled and spiky like it usually was. And he was wearing the outfit he'd worn the other day, which was something that Duncan thought to be a fashion faux pas.
Madison threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine then. I give up. I won't worry about you anymore." As they walked on in silence, Madison slyly stared at him from the corner of his eye.
"Thanks, you're saving the both of us some time." He cocked his head to the left and then to the right, searching. When he didn't find what he'd been looking for he muttered, "Where's that damn Post Office?"
Madison looked ahead to see a medium-sized building jutting up from the ground. It was at least a mile away and Madison's throat was getting a bit dry. He needed something liquid and he didn't care what it was. He scanned the surroundings. A perfume shop, another perfume shop...yet another perfume shop, a shoe store, Armani Exchange—Duncan better not get any ideas—ah! A coffee shop with some French-looking name. "Hey Honeycomb, let's head over there. I'm thirsty."
"Why don't you go there and I'll go to the Post Office. We'll be getting two things out of the way if we do that," he replied as they came to a halt. There they stood, in front of Café au Lait, the same in height, almost the same in stature, yet so different in other ways; but somehow, they'd managed to become best friends in the midst of all the differences. There are more confusing things in the world...
"Fine. Fine. If you don't want to wait for me then go," Madison told him, deliberately sounding a bit hurt. He sniffled; "I'll meet up with you later. I know when I'm not wanted."
Duncan grinned—the first time all day—and walked away. That confident spring in his step was gone and we all know why. Abandoning Nasturtium wasn't so hard while he was doing it, but the consequences of his actions were unnerving. Sometimes he figured that it was the right thing to do, and other times he wished that he could've handled it better. He'd endured the abuse so long...why not endure it some more?
When the rushing of the air down his parched trachea became painful, Madison was compelled to go buy something to drink. His friend could be put off his mind for a while. He had needs too and there was no need to sacrifice his mind and his body to Duncan. He had to take things into his own hands; and Madison saw that he was more than capable of doing things that.
The aroma of freshly-brewed coffee was alluring to him the moment he'd opened the door. He looked around and found a tall refrigerator filled with cakes and pastries along with cold beverages. A smoothly-rounded bottle of cherry-flavored Clearly Canadian had his name on it.
Who would've know that on his way to the Clearly Canadian he would've seen an angel in the coffee shop? She had to be the most beautiful creature that had ever graced the Earth with her existence. Her hair was made of bronze and of more than just 14K gold and her supple skin made her glow. Her aqua eyes were bright; so powerful that they burned a searing hole in his heart and he knew that from then on, he was putty in her hands. The angel walked from behind the counter and pulled out a scrunch-y, which caused her abundantly curled hair to spill down her shoulders. In Madison's opinion she'd just evolved from just an angel to an actual goddess. As she placed her black apron on a shiny hook, she must've caught him staring. She looked at him and smiled and said, "Hi." Her voice was as sweet as honey and he wanted to hear more of it...but she shut the door. And he stood there, mesmerized. A hello transfixed on his lips but never orated.
*~* *~*
Dear Duncan,
Hey Honey, it's me, your mother. I sincerely hope that your residency in Celadon City has been fabulous. Life at home has been tedious since you've gone and me and your father have just been so busy that we couldn't give you a call. Just yesterday I had to fly off to the Orange Archipelago to introduce my new pokéball design. I call it the Metallic Ball because it is made of pure titanium. If you look closer in this parcel, you'll see one in there, especially for my baby! Also, in case you haven't had any luck thus, I've enclosed a surprise for you. Your father gives his regards, son. Call me if you need anything!
Your loving Mother,
Helen
*~* *~*
Mom always knows what to do to make someone feel better. Duncan exhaled deeply as he stared into the big, blue sky. He was in the park, close to where he captured that little devil what seemed like years ago. From the cubic package he retrieved the cold metal ball. It wasn't at all heavy and it was pretty attractive too.
He shook it, a smile on his once-blank face, and expanded it before calling out the two magic words. Blue energy made a whirring noise at it collectively formed into one object, one being. Duncan smiled upon seeing what sat on the table with its head cocked to the side, examining its new trainer.
It had sparse, tan fur with a cream underbelly. Its huge eyes showed that it was rather young; they expanded with delight as it smiled. They were an intense shade of lime green. They were adorable. And, on the top of his head—it was a male—twirled a healthy green leaf. Duh...if you hadn't figured it out by now it was another Chikorita. But this one, he was from the Orange Archipelago: hence the coloring.
"Hey, little guy," Duncan said sweetly as he stroked the inquisitive pokémon's chin with the crook of his right thumb. The new Chikorita immediately began his inspection of this unknown guy. To him he smelled good, like the woods—compliment of his cologne—and he liked the woods. He jumped onto his shoulder and began to smell his hair and his neck, then his mouth, which smelled like orange juice. Then he smelled his underarms and then his feet. Then his...
"Hey, hey, hey. I believe you've smelled enough of me," he said with a grin.
The little pokémon beamed as he snuggled closer in his lap. His little head rested against his abdomen and Duncan couldn't help stroking his fur. He'd shared such little physical contact with Nasturtium, in spite of the times that she was beating him up, and he savored the moments he shared with this anonymous pokémon.
"Cha! [Me like you! You smell good,]" he chirped from below as he jumped from his lap and back onto the table. He began to traverse the table back and forth, not fixated in a certain spot.
Duncan pensively rubbed his chin. Like Nasturtium, he too needed a name and he decided that it wouldn't be based on a flower. He guessed that it was a bit tacky. "Do you like the name Boomer?"
He stopped and sounded it out. "[Boo. Boo-m. Boom. Er. Boom-er. Boomer! Me like that name,]" he responded as he extended a vine. Unknowingly, Duncan flinched at the gesture; however, after reminding himself that Boomer actually liked him he extended his hand and touched it. Boomer smiled.
"[Where's your den?]" he asked, cocking his head to the side.
Duncan didn't understand what he said so he just smiled and said, "Follow me." Obediently, Boomer jumped into his arms and let him carry him to the destination. Duncan had been meaning to go there for a while now, but his former pokémon hadn't been so pliant or deserving.
*~*
"Hey Duncan," Aerin chirped as he walked into the Gym. "How's it going?" Then, looking around and not seeing the one thing that was always with him, she quirked an eyebrow. "Where's Nasturtium?"
He didn't want to tell her the truth, so he stretched it to fit his needs. Flatly coming out and telling her that he'd thrown her out onto the street would make her despise him; and he didn't feel like having an enemy. She was only nice person around. "Nasturtium ran away," he said in a saddened voice.
She genuinely looked caring and even hurt. "Are you serious? I mean, are you sure that she actually ran away?"
"Yeah, or else she would be with me right now."
"When did this happen?"
"Late last night," he remarked. "When it was thundering and lightning and raining. I woke up in the middle of the night and looked around my room. I checked the little bed I bought her but she wasn't there." He paused for effect "I decided thats she probably went to go raid the refridgerator—she usually gets a late night snack—so I went into the kitchen and searched the living room. But she wasn't there either. And then I knew that she wasn't there: that she had left for good."
Aerin placed her hand over her mouth and let out a horrified gasp. "I can't believe that she actually ran away. Yeah, I knew that you two didn't get along and everything. But I suppose that she was just so unhappy with you that she had to escape." She turned to the doors and looked out of them and to the city outside. "Where did you capture her?"
"At Celadon Park."
She nodded her head. "She probably went there. You should go look for her."
"This wasn't her only time...running away." Aerin turned around to look him into the eyes and he knew that he had her under his control. "She ran away a few days ago and came back late that night. I assume that there's something that lures her back."
"Another pokémon, perhaps?"
"Could be," he replied. "All I know is that all week, it seemed like she was doing all she could to irritate me. See," he said pointing to his eye, which had not completely healed and his busted lip.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah," he said, looking away for the dramatization. "I'm fine. She didn't give out anything that I couldn't handle."
She looked down to the ground. "I'm never the one to think bad things of other people or pokémon, but I guess that what she did was for the best. Running away, that is. I do believe that a pokémon is not always compatible with its trainer as your case proved. You should capture another pokémon and start over."
He clutched the sphere that hung from his neck off of a silver rope chain. "My mother sent me this. There's another pokémon inside of it."
"Really? How ironic," she mused as she examined the ball. She was rather close to him. The moment she realized this, she leaped back and scratched her head. "Oh, so his name is Boomer, eh?"
"Yeah." Inside, he was laughing. If he wanted to, he could go out with Aerin at any time. She would be willing. And, if he was feeling even more devious, he could definitely take advantage of her and she wouldn't mind one bit.
"So...what is it?"
"Another Chikorita."
"Oh, can I see him?"
"Sure," he said, not resisting. He clucthed the ball and recalled the pokémon inside who, upon his stepping back into existence, affectionately rubbed up against Duncan's leg.
"Cutie," Aerin cooed as she reached down to coddle him and to talk in the same stupid voice that people use when they're talking to babies or puppies. Boomer smiled, lavishing in the attention that had been bestowed upon him. He even licked the back of her hand. "He sure is friendly," she said. "I wonder how he'll fare in a battle."
Duncan unconsciously became all tense. Aerin looked at him oddly, her head tilted a good forty-five degrees, before shaking her head in agreement with herself. "I get it. I take it you haven't been in a pokémon battle before?"
"I've been in one before," he quickly defended himself. She could tell that something else was on the tip of his tongue, so she leaned in closer. His shoulders sunk a few inches as he admitted, "Just not with my own pokémon."
"I see," she said in a serious tone. She grabbed him by the hand and said, "Follow me." Then, leading him through a narrow corridor that led to the East Bubble. "I want to show you my pokémon."
He followed along unquestioningly. He didn't mind parading through the halls with her and Boomer. Besides, he was getting a spectacular view—and it wasn't just of the various perfume bottles that were on disply behind glass windows. Minutes later, the threesome made it to the area where the pokémon were kept, most often referred to as the Secret Garden. Tall trees representing virtually all of the climatic zones jutted from the soft earth and reached for the sky. Flowers twisted around the trees and peeked from behind tall grasses, showing their spectacular brilliance. Boomer was having a whack-attack: rolling around on the ground and going crazy over this one green plant that had an enchanting fragrance.
Other pokémon slowly advanced towards the source of all the frolicking and laughter. They smiled upon seeing their wonderful trainer standing there with her student; they greeted her affectionately. But Parabola, she was a bit confused.
"[Hey...you're not Nasturtium.]"
"[Me don't know a nasturtium...maybe there's some in your garden,]" he innocently replied.
"[No, not the flower; she's an actual pokémon. Your trainer used to bring her around here.]"
Boomer looked as confused as he did before. "[If he had her, she not here anymores. Me here though.]"
A Tangela creeped forward and in a husky voice asked, "[What's your name, kid?]"
"[Boom-Boom. Boomer! Yeah, that's it...I think. My buddy named me today. He's so nice.]"
"[Ha, that's what you think,]" the Tangela coughed.
"[Me no understand.]"
"[If he had Nasturtium and she's not with him anymore, then that means that she left him for some reason. Maybe because she was being abused.]"
Boomer stamped his foot in anger. "[Nah-uh. My friend would never do that. He's too nice to me!]"
"[Just don't slip up, kid, or you'll be out cold on the gutter."
"[Stop it,]" Boomer cried as he sunk down to his belly. "[You very mean and bad. Me don't like you at all! I'm going to my friend.]"
"[Wait, kid. Don't listen to what he tells you. He's a real sap-licker, if you know what I mean.]"
"[Huh?]" he dubiously queried.
"[Nothing, kid,]" Parabola said. "[Just stick with us. We'll be your friends.]" She introduced him to a spunky Bellossom named Fabienne and showed him around the Secret Garden. But like any little kid, or person in general, he couldn't help but wonder if what Tangela said was true.
Meanwhile...Aerin told Duncan, "Tomorrow I'm scheduled to have a match with a kid named Freddie. Why don't you come and watch it?"
"That would be fine by me. I don't have anything plan."
"Then it's settled," she concluded as she and Duncan strolled down a worn path that led to the exit of the Secret Garden. In the doorframe, she stopped and turned to him. "I'll be expecting you there."
"I don't break my engagements," he replied as he made his way out of the Garden, Boomer having come up to him and gotten into his sphere, and to the entrance of Celadon Gym.
"Ducan," she started, dreamily as if she wasn't exactly sure what she was doing. He turned around, knowing that she was putty in his hands and that he could use her in any way possible. A sly grin spread across his wide lips. "Yes?"
She shook her head, as if she was clearing some unwanted substance from it. "Don't forget to take notes," she lamely remarked upon looking into his eyes once more.
"I won't," he grinned. She's all mine; that is, if I want her to be...
*~*
"You know that girl at uh....Café Olette?" Madison queried as he and Duncan sat over a box of pepperoni pizza. An oozing dollop of mozzarella cheeze fiercly latched onto Madison's bristly chin. "Ah shit! " he blasphemed.
"Café au Lait," he corrected; then, smiling, he asked, "What do you mean 'that girl'?"
"I don't know her name but she has got to be the hottest woman on this entire planet!"
Duncan rubbed his chin. "If she is the hottest woman in the world then I'm sure that I would've noticed her...probably would have even her phone number."
Madison narrowed his eyes at him. "Well maybe she only works on certain days. Here; I'll refresh your memory. She has the shiniest curly blond hair and aqua eyes, like mine. And she is about this tall and has the most perfect smile on the world. Her teeth are so white."
Duncan doubled over in his mirth upon realizing who his pal was alluding to. I mean, he was really cracking up—practically rolling on the floor. Tiny tears welled up in his eyes and his cheeks hurt from all the laughter.
"What's so funny, ass?"
"You like Imagen?"
He leaned forward in curiosity. "That's her name? Imagen...that's the most beautiful name in the w—"
"If you say something as sappy as that again, I swear it, I'll punch you dead in the face," he threatened. He shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe that you like Imagen!"
"What's wrong with that?"
"She has got to be the biggest bitch in the—" he caught himself. "Ever," he concluded. "Why would you like someone like her. Believe me, dude. You deserve better."
Madison's eyebrows knit together. "I don't like the way you're talking about her. That's really degrading."
"If I knew that you would have gotten into protective-over-someone-you-don't-even-know mode, I wouldn't have said it." He mused about it for a moment. "Oh wait, I would."
Madison practically growled at him. "And now I know why I am the better friend out of the both of us," he grumbled.
"Come again?"
"Nothing," he replied sweetly. He sighed. "I don't ask you for much. I mean, I rarely ask you for anything. But could you just, try to introduce us or get some information about her?"
Duncan sneakily smiled. "Sure. I'll be your matchmaker."
*~*
Concluding Statements: Sorry this chapter took so long but I spent the weekend over my sister's house—I had mucho fun—and didn't bring this with me. I hope that you liked this chapter. Don't forget to review. And thanks to anyone who has recently reviewed who aren't one of the normal reviewers. It's nice knowing that my fic isn't that intimidating in order to prevent fetching new readers. And the recurring theme of the chapters is....drumbroll please...novels and songs. Infatuation is by none other than the talented-ly stripped Christina Aguilera—The Duke of Briarcliffe