Summary—Ash gets a Pokédex and, well, a lot of Pokémon.
Chapter 7:
Abandon Labs
The door creaked open slowly.
"I tole you I could do it," Shamin said triumphantly, handing Miriam back her hairpin.
"I still say we coulda kicked it in easier. Or used one of yar heads, both of them are thick enough. We been standin' out here over an hour!" Miriam retorted, walking in. "Eeww, dust!" She batted away the cobwebs. "Can someone get a light!"
Ash flicked the switch. "No power," he muttered.
"Well, can't ya use Rodent?" Miriam demanded.
"We'd need a generator or something to keep the power going to the lights," he said calmly, wiping a window clean with his hand. A stream of light came in. "Well just have to use the light from the windows."
Miriam made a face. "Ya clean 'em. I'll . . . supervise." She sat carefully on a chair after blowing away the dust, although she would have preferred to just use Ash's coat that she had just stolen, as Shamin usually used his and he was too much of a gentleman to ask for it back. Of course, Miriam didn't tell him exactly how she had come across it, knowing for a fact that he'd have thrown a fit. It was easier just to say she found it in the church donation box instead of on a church pew next to someone. Miriam didn't hold to the belief that the inside of the church was any less of a place to commit an act of sin (or survival, depending on the point of view). Better to do it right in front of God or whomever instead of behind his (or her, as Miriam believed) back, she figured. Showed you weren't putting on an act in order to get the best seats in Nirvana or Heaven or Utopia or wherever.
Shamin sighed, tapping the computer keys in an interested air. "I bet we could get this working."
"Aren't either of you gonna help me clean?" Ash demanded, cleaning the windows with his hand to lighten the whole place up. He looked disgusted at the dirt stuck to the skin, then wiped it on his jeans.
"Cleanin' is men's work," Miriam smiled, placing her feet up atop the computer console. Shamin tried to push them off, but failed.
"Well, at least you're helping me . . ." He looked around wildly. "Pikachu?" She was sitting on Miriam's lap. "Traitor."
Pikachu smiled evilly. "Chuka ka Pikapi pikachu pika."
"Miriam also says the sun sets in the East!" he snapped back.
"Doesn't it?" she asked innocently.
"The West, Miriam, the West."
"I'll take yar word for it." She petted Pikachu. "Is he always this cranky when he has to clean?"
"Pi."
"Must have been a terror to get him to clean his room. I bet his mom did it."
Ash went over to Shamin, stubbornly deciding that if he was going to be the only one to clean up he wasn't going to, placed his hands on her shoulders to steady himself, and leaned over to look at the screen. "How do you think we could get this thing running?"
She was blushing and didn't quite hear the question.
"Why do ya even need the computer?" Miriam asked. "Does it have solitaire on it?"
He looked at her. "If we can get it running, we can use it to link over and get the rest of my Pokémon."
"Ya got a lot?"
Ash shrugged, looking back at the computer intently. "A few. What do you guys think?"
Shamin tried to keep her focus. "I bet there's a main power switch thingy we could pull. They still got lines coming here, so we should be able to get some power. Connection'll probably be as slow as heck, though." She grinned.
"We'll live. Where'd the switch be?"
"Basement?" she guessed. "Hope you can find it." Ash rolled his eyes.
****
"How about now?" Ash called, then sneezed.
"Nope. Are ya sure ya're at the right box?"
"It's the only one that's connected to the power cord," he sighed, rubbing his irritated nose. The dust was making his eyes water something fierce. He pushed another switch up with the heel of his palm.
"Nope, nope, nope. Hey, wait-wait-wait! We got something! It's, it's, um . . . Pong!" Miriam laughed. "Ya can come up now."
Carefully he closed the box and headed up the stairs, not too surprised to see the other three staring at the screen as Shamin tried to keep the ball bouncing.
"Go! GO! GO! Left! No, right!"
"Pi! Pi!"
Shamin was clearly flustered. "I know what I'm doing! Shut UP!"
Ash looked at the screen, and then at the players, not seeing why the game was so interesting. "Hello? Can we actually—"
"Ahh!" Shamin exclaimed, cutting him off when the ball missed the platform.
"My turn!" Miriam pushed the younger out of the chair roughly and settled behind the seat, cracking her fingers and looking over the keyboard. "Now . . . where's the start button?"
Shamin looked up innocently from the floor. "Don't you know?"
"Don't be a sore loser. Now where—"
"Excuse me," Ash said loudly. "Can we get back to the whole reason we turned this thing on?"
Miriam leaned against her hand and looked at him critically. "Well, Blondie, do ya even know how to connect with yar Professor friend?"
Ash opened his mouth to say that of course he did, then paused. Actually, now that he thought about it, he wasn't 100% sure as to how Professor Oak had sent him his Pokémon. The professor had always done it manually after Ash had called, but there was an automatic system in case Professor Oak was out of town. "Not exactly," he admitted reluctantly. Then he looked at them with a sly smile. "But surely a thief could break in?"
"Now you want us to steal?" Shamin teased, eyes sparkling.
"You're not stealing. They're mine."
Miriam looked at her nails, a trait Ash now knew she did when she was, heaven forbid, thinking about something. He grew a bit worried, because Miriam always seemed to be able to question the one question he never wanted to answer, even when she had no idea of the question was. She didn't disappoint him.
"Now, clear this up for me, Blondie. But I've actually done thinkin' on this for some time." Shamin let out a low whistle, and Pikachu fell over in mock surprise. Miriam ignored both actions. "Now, this professor guy, he has yar Pokémon because of this thingy that says ya're only supposed to carry around six of the little devils, right?"
Ash nodded, leaning against the counter. It took Miriam a while to get to the point when she went on like this, because she wanted to make sure she got all the details right.
"And ya're supposed to have this Dexter thingy so ya can train and stuff legally. Train and capture and compete in the battle things, not own or breed or whatnot, right?" Again he nodded, really worried as to where this was going to end up.
"So, ya've already done some trainin' and capturin', and ya don't have this red mini-Poképedia thingy now?" Ash opened his mouth to explain, a rather stupid thing to do because he had nothing to say in his defense. Miriam cut him off with a last question. "And, if this professor was the one who has yar Pokémon, why don'tcha just call him and ask them to send them over?"
Silently berating himself for ever telling Miriam all the rules—how was he supposed to know she was actually paying attention?—Ash carefully thought about his answer while Shamin and Miriam waited for his answer. Pikachu looked worriedly at her Trainer, curious to know if the proverbial jig was up.
"Well," he started, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. They seemed to be the only part of his hair that grew, for the back was still as short as it had been when he had left. They listened intently, just waiting for his excuse. Shamin seemed to have picked up the notion that this actually was an important question, that they had seemingly caught him, Mr. Conscious-Loyalty-All-That-Crap, in a trap.
"Well," he repeated. "When I moved in with my dad, I gave the Professor back my Pokédex because, well, you don't train over here. And, well, I decided to restart-up my training over here, and you need to get a new Pokédex. And, well, the professor who has my Pokémon is, well, out of town." God, that was so lame. How many more "wells" could I have slipped in?
Ash figured he really had to work on lying.
"I kinda figured that there'd be a professor here that could get me a new one, and get my Pokémon here," Ash finished quickly.
They both nodded. Of course, Shamin looked like she believed it, but Miriam was still studying him, debating on whether or not she found truth in his explanation. In either case, she didn't continue her questions, looking back at the computer. "Well, I don't know anything 'bout computers or hackin'." Her fingertips tapped a few keys.
Shamin shrugged. "I can sometimes get it so the ATM gives me a few twenties, but not too often. But I probably know more than Miriam." She grinned. "Of course, mold knows more than she does."
"Only about some things, Kiddo," Miriam said back. "Although computers are not my specialty, I'll admit." She twirled on the chair. "So ya two will have to figure this one out on yar own, I guess."
Ash nodded, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Man, I knew should have paid more attention in those damn computer courses.
****
"The . . . whatchamacallit's connected the . . . dohicky. The dohicky's connected to this . . . thingamabob. The thingamabob's connected to the . . . whateveritis," Ash chatted from under the Pokéball transport.
"Very scientific," Shamin chuckled, tapping the keys.
Ash pushed himself out from under the narrow space. "Hey, do I look like a mechanic here?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Shamin asked horridly, twirling in the swivel chair. "Cuz you have a nasty smudge of oil or something across your face."
He made a face, pushing himself up, unconcerned about his dirty hands and face. "Well, I think I've got this thing running anyway. All I have to do is check . . . again."
"Are you sure it won't blow up?"
Ash's face reddened. "It didn't explode. Sparks just flew off it."
"And smoke."
"It turned off before the fire actually started."
Shamin looked at him sadly, shaking her head. Then her eyes went towards the floor. "Aren't those pieces supposed to be in the machine?"
"They're leftovers," Ash said shrugging. "I can't figure out where they go."
"You don't get leftovers in machines, Shan. Supper, yes. Computer thingies . . . no."
"I can't figure out where they go, though," he repeated simply, grabbing a rag he had found and wiping his hands on it.
"Why didn't you remember?"
"Excuse me, but I had that whole thing apart. You think you could remember where every knot and bolt went? I don't think so, especially if you can't remember where you put your shoes. Remember yesterday? You were looking all around for your shoes, and you had them on your feet already?" He grinned at the memory.
Shamin chose not to continue into that area if he was going to use those tactics, looking sheepishly down at her shoes. She'd probably never hear the end of that one. "Well, if you did get the thing to work, I'm thinking I'm almost done here."
Ash went over quickly to look at the computer skeptically. He was terribly surprised when he actually saw files of Professor Oak's staring back at him. "Whoa. How'd you . . .?"
"He's connected to the Internet," Shamin stated, rolling her eyes. "I mean, if you're on the Net, anyone can hack into your personal files."
Needless to say, Ash looked at her in a new light, exceedingly impressed. "And you actually know how to do this?"
"Of course. I watched Genevieve go it all the time at the Tunnels. I mean, she can hack into anything. Course, I don't actually know I'm doing, but I can do it through trial and error."
"I'm still impressed," he said, leaning forward and staring at the screen. He was impressed, considering how flaky he thought Shamin was.
She blushed at the comment, shifting her attention between him and the screen. "You should be." Her fingers flew over the screen, bringing up a new screen with a list of names. "I'm thinking this is it, the transfer screen. What do you think?"
Ash shrugged. "I suppose. I've never actually been at this end of the transfer." He paused for a moment. "You sure no one on the computer would see this happening? So they don't cancel it or whatever they do?"
Shamin looked at him a moment, then shrugged. "Well, this is on the other side of the world we're talking about. They should be asleep, less they're night owls. But since he's not home, we shouldn't have a problem with him canceling the connection."
Hope the professor isn't a night owl, Ash thought, wincing at what he was actually doing. "When do you think we could start transferring the Pokémon?" The faster we start, the faster we get done.
She pressed her lips together tightly, moving the mouse to bring up a new window. "Umm . . . when I figure out how to get the thing to work," Shamin admitted glumly, but then brightened. "But I did figure out how to create them Poképedias you mentioned." She stood up on her chair to get a grip on a drawer, which opened in a cloud of dust, causing her to sneeze as it filtered down.
"They're called Pokédexs," Ash smiled, somehow again impressed as he crossed his arms to lean against the console, watching her try to reach into the drawer that was too high for her.
"Same difference," she grunted. "Could you like get me a book to stand on or something? I know they're in here."
He didn't budge. "What's in there?"
"The Poképed—dexes," she corrected herself. "The guy that was here had the inventory on his computer, and didn't bother taking the stuff with him, don't ask me why."
"Cuz they chased him out of town." She grunted her agreement.
"Didn't I ask you do help me?" Shamin asked sharply, looking down at him. He grinned up at her. "I know I did because you're grinning like that."
He blew his bangs out of his eyes with an unturned lip, still smirking. "Am I?"
"You're so annoying! Hey, wait, wait, I got em!" Standing on the very tip-tip of her shoes, Shamin gripped the smooth plastic with her fingertips and pulled them out, waving the four at him. "See, I told you they were up here! I—whoa, whoa . . .!"
Ash could barely blink when Shamin came hurling towards him, knocking both of them to the ground. His head and entire backside hit the tiles hard.
Shamin pushed herself up sheepishly, pushing herself up slightly and laying his stomach and chest. "Thanks for breaking my fall."
"Don't mention it," he muttered.
She held her head in her hands, elbows on his shoulders. "I will. Those tiles must be really hard."
"They are," he nodded, rubbing the back of his head.
"I mean, if I had fallen on them, you know how easily I bruise."
His eyes shot open in surprise, and he saw Shamin's smirking face above his. "Oh, ha."
Her grin widened, and she waved the Pokédexes in front of him. "But look what I got."
His lips twitched into a smile, eyes following the red boxes hungrily. They were a bit out-dated, but they looked like they'd do. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
Shamin blinked in surprise, blushing. "Um . . . no."
He grabbed the Pokédexes, not noticing Shamin's response, and fanned them out in front of his face. "Prefect. We can almost head out."
"W-what?"
Ash looked past the Pokédexes at her. "Once we get these set up, and my Pokémon, we can start training." His eyes were sparkling. "And then go to some leagues. Maybe even win!"
She nodded. "Oh." She bit her bottom lip in thought, resting her head against her fist. "Like what leagues?"
Ash shrugged, or did as close to a shrug as he could. "Well, I could try the Indigo League again. And there has to be other leagues around here."
"But what—"
"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" asked a teasing voice.
"Pika?"
Shamin sat back on Ash's stomach quickly, her head snapping up, cheeks very red. Ash merely leaned his head back to see Miriam upside-down, Pikachu on her shoulder. "Hey, Miriam! What'd ya get us to eat?"
"Are ya sure ya wouldn't rather have a cigarette?" she smiled, walking closer to look down. Ash looked up at her, puzzled, while Shamin sent the woman daggers.
"You know I don't smoke." He held up the Pokédexes. "Shamin found the Pokédexes, and I think I've got the transport working." Pikachu leaped down next to his head. "Pretty soon we'll see all our old friends, huh Pikachu?"
"Pi!"
Miriam tilted her head, eyes shifting between the two teenagers. "Might I ask 'bout the position?" Her finger wavered between the two, and Pikachu also looked critically at them.
"I fell when I was getting the Pokédexes," Shamin said quickly, still as red and getting redder from the implying word choice Miriam was using.
Ash nodded, pushing himself up, still as dense as ever. "And I ended up breaking her fall. So what's for lunch?"
Again Miriam's eyes looked between the two: Shamin's beet-red face and Ash's innocent expression as Shamin got off him. Then she sighed, digging into the bag. "Ya should carry around protection, Blondie," she said, handing him a sandwich. Shamin's cheeks literally puffed out at the implication, and Miriam tossed a sandwich at her face. Miriam could see the younger was willingly to commit murder at the moment.
He held his sandwich, looking at her disapprovingly as she sat down and started to eat her own meal. "Excuse me, but I just went over this with Shamin. There isn't any way that it's going to explode!"
Miriam choked on her bread, Pikachu looked at her Trainer in surprise, and Shamin's head snapped up to look between the two, a look of horror and amusement on her face. Ash continued, giving Miriam a perplexed look as she swallowed her near-death-causing meal.
"I mean, okay, so there's a few pieces left over and stuff, but I'm positive that the transport isn't—what?"
Miriam literally doubled-over where she sat laughing so hard, and even Pikachu and Shamin were laughing. "Oh my, ya had me goin', Blondie!" she managed to get out, shaking her head and clutching her side.
"What's so funny?" Ash demanded hotly. "It won't!"
Biting her pinky nail, Miriam was still snickering, finding vast amusement in his innocence. "Blondie, ya're like thirteen, right?" He nodded, seriously wondering where this was going. "And haven't ya felt any changes?"
He blinked in surprise, and then red literally started to creep up into his cheeks and ears. He looked like a thermometer on the rise. Ash already knew the facts of life—had known for sometime, thanks to schooling and little talks with his father. It was one thing that Ash was relieved that his father had talked about and not his mom. His face felt even hotter at the thought of his mom trying to talk about . . . it. Ash also knew how some guys acted, having traveled with Brock for so long. Now Miriam was talking about . . . it, and she most certainly knew about the three-letter-word and a certain male anatomical part. "Miriam!" he hissed through his embarrassment.
Miriam's eyes lit up with even more amusement. "Now, Blondie, rethink yar past conversation, positions, and actions," she said deviously. Even Shamin and Pikachu were being entertained, Shamin because Miriam's evil ways weren't focused on her, for once, and Pikachu because it was just so damn funny.
Ash did as told, and, if at all possible, grew even redder as he slowly pieced together Miriam's viewpoint and mind-set. His ears felt like they were being burned off. " . . . Oh. . .," he croaked.
And, when the three females started laughing, all he wanted was for the Earth to swallow him up whole and never spit him out again.
****
Ash hurriedly clicked his name, then watched as the transfer bar changed red.
"Would ya listen to this?" Miriam said conversationally, leaning against the Pokéball transfer and reading the paper. "Them hackers got into some bank and swiped half the money." She let out a low whistle. "Ya think ya could—"
"No," Ash said curtly. "We are not robbing banks."
"But it's perfect!" Miriam countered. "They've been doin' it for weeks. Must be really rich. Why not?"
"Cuz you got to be good, Miriam, which I'm not. I can't hack into government files," Shamin sighed.
"Banks are government?"
Shamin shrugged. "Whatever. This was personal stuff, easy pickings."
Miriam grunted. "Still would—God ALMIGHTY!" She leaped away from the machine as it sparked on. "It's alive!"
"It's transferring," Ash stated calmly.
"It's not gonna 'explode', is it?" Miriam teased, and Ash responded by turning red and pretending he hadn't heard. She walked closer, watching as a Pokéball appeared. She picked it up. "What's this?"
"A Pokéball," Ash explained. "It holds the Pokémon inside."
Miriam snorted. "Yeah right. Maybe a little bug thing, but Rodent couldn't fit in here." She put it next to Pikachu as if to compare the difference in size to make her point.
"Could so. Remember the Golem that Pikachu battled? That was in a Pokéball."
Shamin picked up the next Pokéball, and then the next. "It must be scientific, Miriam."
Settling down the ball, Miriam watched as the other red-and-white orbs started to roll down. "Weird." With her verdict stated, Miriam turned around and left.
"She just doesn't understand," Shamin stated encouragingly. "You got a lot of them though."
Pikachu jumped up and down. "Pikachu chu pikachu pika!"
Ash suddenly blinked at her statement. "Oh, god, you're right! I'm going to get all my Tauros!"
"So?" Shamin asked quizzically.
"I have a whole herd!"
Shamin shrugged, walking over to the computer. "Who cares?"
He forced a grin. "You'll see what I mean. What are you doing?"
"The Pokédexes. We have to get them loaded up, right. Might as well do it now."
Ash nodded his agreement, leaning over to look at the computer. He didn't touch Shamin, though. Then he blinked, seeing what she had typed. "You're making one for yourself?"
"Got a problem with that?" He shook his head. "I want to try this." Carefully, she finished typing everything about her, or what she cared to write or make-up, then clicked the download button. "I wonder if Miriam would want one."
"I'll ask." Ash's eyes shifted towards the transfer machine. "Just watch the Pokéballs so they don't get backed up."
Shamin looked like something suddenly entered her mind, but nodded anyway.
"Pikachu, watch her," Ash sighed.
"Pi, Pikapi."
With that, Ash started out, going out into the hall. Dust-cleared footprints were everywhere, showing that they had already walked down his hall many times already, but he could hear music coming, so there was no question as to where Miriam was. Ash entered the room, "Hey . . . Miriam?"
The music was even louder in the room, and Miriam was dancing, rather well, Ash admitted. Instead of having her stop, he watched her, waiting until she had finally noticed him at the end of the song. "B-Blondie," she got out, forcing a grin. "How long ya been there?"
He looked at her nastily. "Long enough." Ash found he couldn't be as mean as Miriam was, letting what he saw leave the conversation. "Look, we were just wondering if you'd like a Pokédex too. Do you?"
Miriam shrugged. "I don't plan to battle."
"But you might."
She rolled her eyes. "Just make me one. Might come in handy. Prop up a wobbly chair or somethin'."
Ash grinned. "Y—"
"Pikapi!" Pikachu called, running into the room. "Chupi pika pikachu pika pikachu chu!"
"Shamin fell down the well!" Miriam stated, only understanding the names in the whole sentence.
"What's Shamin doing!" Ash demanded, running past, not even waiting for the answer. Miriam followed, and both skidded to a halt once they reached the lab. Pokéballs were literally everywhere. "Shamin!"
Shamin raised her hands like they had pulled a gun on her, dropping all the Pokéballs she had in them. Luckily the Pokéball level was near her knees and the balls did not release their Pokémon. "Okay, before you say anything, let me just say that this is not how I planned it!"
"What did ya plan! To make a swimming pool?" Miriam demanded, almost sliding on one of the balls as she stepped forward to help control the flow coming from the machine.
"No! I just figured we might ste—borrow some Pokémon—" Shamin stopped at Ash's glare, then went on to Plan 2. (Honesty never worked for her.) "It was all Pikachu's fault!" she yelled, pointing at the mouse.
"Chupi!"