Molten
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A:N: You people were so nice for something so... so... degenerate... as this. I hope the revisions make up for it, though... :Sobs in her corner:
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it. Wish I did, though, because I could use the money. D:
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Frustration
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Why do these things happen to me? Flannery thought to herself moodily as Winona chatted happily beside her about the weather, her Altaria, trainees, and so on and so forth. I'm sorry, Winny, but I don't care much about the recent bug infestation at the gym, thanks...
"Winona, I've heard you've recently renovated your gym... How so?" Steven asked, glancing quickly at Flannery. She had been staring at the ground again, head steeply inclined. Maybe Winona's over-talkativeness was dampening her already foul mood...
"Oh, it's wonderful! I removed the flipping panels... Too many people complained of bruises. (How that happens, I don't really know!) So, we set up numerous platforms with ladders... And you have to find specific colored feathers to open certain doorways... So we're basically just keeping people in shape now!" She giggled brightly. Flannery suppressed a twitch.
Flannery was glad Winona wasn't buzzing around her any longer, and she knew she would have to pay Steven back somehow. Sighing and looking up ahead, she could see her gym, the few trees planted around it, some flowers, and...
...Wallace.
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"Wallace... Uh... hi..." Flannery said, tugging self-consciously at her bright red hair. She could hear Winona squeal (if only her challengers saw her do this, they wouldn't be half as nervous) and by the time she and Steven actually made it to the front door of the Lavaridge gym, the Fortree gym leader had already latched herself on Wallace's arm.
"Hello, Flannery." He said in his smooth, deep voice. Flannery bit her lip, nodding slightly. The deep blue eyes flicked over to Steven. "...Steven."
"Hello, Wallace. What have you been up to lately?"
"I could ask the same of you..."
"Vacationing, mostly."
They continued their small talk as they entered the gym, moving off to the side where Flannery and her father's living area were. She fumbled with the keys a moment, then swung the door open.
"Flannery! You're home! Finally!"
"What now, Dad? ...Not more challenges?" She frowned.
The brown-haired man looked at a note in his hand, then flapped it at her.
"Five. Where have you been?" He asked sternly.
Flannery snorted. Of all the...!
"Too many kids look up to Brendan and May, it seems... Those two are, what, sixteen at the most?" He moved off to the kitchen. Flannery sighed, dropping her bag on a nearby table and falling into an overstuffed chair.
"Have they even beaten all of the trainees?"
"Most of the trainees are on vacation, hon!" Her father reminded her, the sound of clinking cups and plates in the background.
Of course! Stupid stupid stupid... I knew I shouldn't have let those two new ones off, they could use the practice...
"You're that busy around here?"
Flannery looked at Steven under the palm that she had slapped her forehead with.
"Too busy... I spend most of the time at the springs, so it only makes it worse."
Winona giggled again, patting her friend's head.
"Flannery, you're such a slacker sometimes!" She plopped herself onto the couch, twirling a finger in her purple hair. Wallace settled himself on the arm.
"You're not helping, Winona..." Flannery grumbled, sitting up a bit more. Winona only laughed some more.
"Sorry... But I never have any challenges waiting for me!"
"Because I don't let any of 'em get past me!" Flannery said, the smugness in her voice only increasing the amount of Winona's laughter.
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Later that day, Steven found Flannery outside the gym, sitting on the steps, an untouched glass of ice tea beside her. She was staring out into space -- Steven didn't know the Lavaridge gym leader all that well, but her dead-honest, spitfire personality was well-known throughout Hoenn.
"Flannery?"
She continued to stare. Only when he sat down next to her did she start and glance around wildly. Sensing his presence beside her, she turned to look at him, and a hot flush rose in her cheeks.
"What are you meditating so deeply upon?" He asked her, the smile in his eyes querying about her mental health.
Flannery frowned, running a lazy finger along the rim of the glass.
"It's hard to explain..." She sighed.
"Daydreaming?" Steven suggested off-handedly. Flannery flicked a bit of her tea at him, then resumed her somber attitude.
"Something like that." She said softly. Steven wiped at the tea on his cheek with his shirt sleeve, his gray eyes contemplating her.
"So I wasn't completely wrong."
Flannery dropped the heel of her foot on his toe none-too-gently, and he yelped.
"You're not making me feel any better, Steven." She said grouchily, setting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.
"I'm sorry." He said, staring at the bruised foot sadly. There went the confident walk he had, only to be replaced with a nasty limp... "It just doesn't fit you to look so sad."
She smiled slightly, watching an ant scuttle across the bottom step.
"So many people would say that... I thought you weren't a stereotypical person, Steven."
It was his turn to look indignant.
"And that's supposed to mean -- ?"
"Nothing, nothing." She said quickly. "I... I just don't think you'd understand what I'm going through. It's a... girl thing, I think."
He still took a stab at it. You couldn't condemn his curiosity. "Inner turmoil?"
"Nah... Something else." She stood, picking up the glass, turning to head inside. "I don't want to burden you with my own personal troubles, Steven. Thanks, though."
Steven gazed at her retreating form. What was it about her that plucked at his nerves? That bothered him? He frowned. Just this one woman, this gym leader, how could she bother in him such ways?
...Maybe it was that hair of hers.
(Yes. Quite definitely, Steven decided, staring at the new scuff mark on the toe of his shoes.)
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"You're jealous of my hair?"
"No, no, no!"
"Now you're saying it's ugly!"
"No! Flan -- "
"Steven!"
Steven nearly whimpered under her steely gaze. Okay, he was never listening to the wannabe psychiatrist side of himself he didn't know he had.
"What is it that you want?" Flannery now knew she wouldn't be raging at Winona or Wallace -- she was currently raging at Steven, after all.
"I... Um..."
What was it that he wanted?
"...I don't know, really."
Flannery sighed. Men.
"You're weird." She stated, crossing her arms over her chest. Steven blushed. "Very weird. How many men are jealous of my hair? Oh, I can only wonder..." She rolled her eyes, turning around and walking away from him.
Steven shifted his weight from one foot to another. Well, there went that idea. He used to be suave and... well... a bit like Wallace (no one could be just like Wallace, really), but Flannery just destroyed that. She made him look like such a fool...!
Flannery shook her head and sat down on the couch. Tugging unconsciously at her prized hair, she gave Steven a scrutinizing glare.
"Your hair is perfectly fine." She announced after a minute or two of silence. Steven jumped, looking up from the floor.
"What?"
Flannery glared at him.
"...Oh. I, um, thank you."
"You're trying to make me feel better, aren't you?"
Steven quickly considered the pros and cons of telling her, then decided that she couldn't really harm him.
"Yes, I am."
Flannery laughed. Steven blinked. It had worked!
"Men are so strange sometimes..." She chuckled. Steven harumphed at her slim figure as she walked off to the kitchen.
"Not all of them!" The former champion argued, following her.
"Oh, sure. Wallace certainly isn't, Brendan isn't, Norman isn't... Let's see, Drake isn't... Not really... Though I wonder sometimes..."
He tapped his foot.
"Well?" He prompted.
"Well what?" Flannery blinked innocently, scrubbing at the dishes. Steven sighed, shaking his head in a mock serious manner.
"Aren't you forgetting someone?"
"Am I?" She handed him a dishtowel. Wringing it impatiently, he resisted the urge to slap her with it.
"Women are so... so..." Steven grumbled.
"So what?" The gym leader asked sharply.
It just occured to him that Flannery was holding a knife. A butcher knife, to be correct. And she looked like she knew how to use it.
"Um, nothing." He said quietly, picking up a dish numbly and beginning to dry it.
"Good." Flannery said approvingly.
And some of the day passed like that in simplicity.
Some vacation, Steven thought to himself.
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Even if Flannery considered him strange and possibly something else, Steven knew something was going on that he had no knowledge about. Pushing something around his plate that looked eerily like something that a Muk would regurgitate, he watched Flannery's reactions to whatever Winona said out of the corner of his eye.
"So, Flannery, what do you plan on doing on your days off?"
"Besides soaking in the springs, you mean? I want to go to Lilycove and go on a shopping spree." She seemed casual enough about that, daring to stab the gloop. Steven raised an eyebrow at both her tone and her courage.
"Oh, that sounds so much like you!"
Twitch.
"You know I enjoy shopping, Winona..."
"Yes, I do. In a few months, Wallace and I are going to go to Mirage Island!"
That place even exists? Steven thought dubiously, observing that Flannery was stabbing a potato viciously, having realized that the... er... whateveritwas was quite unedible.
"I thought nobody could go there." Flannery said sharply, glancing at Winona and Wallace for a moment.
"Flannery, don't you keep up with the times?" Another twitch. Flannery was murdering her asparagus. "Some people found the specific type of Pokemon needed to go there, and they've set up a small resort! The people who can get to the island stay there."
How could Winona not catch on? Steven winced as he could hear the grating of the edge of Flannery's knife on her plate.
"Really?" She ground out. "You've found that specific type of Pokemon?"
"Oh, of course! It wasn't that difficult!"
Flannery swallowed deeply, her grip on the knife slackening considerably. Steven eyed the knife, unsure as of whether she was about to throw it or not. And he was sitting across from her. If she didn't stab Winona, he was sure she'd go for him, just out of convenience.
"I see." The fire-user said, much calmer. Steven quietly sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted was another hole in his head to breath through.
"Flannery, is it just me, or have your culinary skills improved a little?"
Flannery jumped at Wallace's soft-spoken question, a humorous little smile on his face. She blushed and looked down at her lap.
"I... guess." She shrugged. Steven glanced down at the thing on his plate. Wallace was either going blind or being his usual gentlemanly self. Likely the latter, as Wallace tended to populate the upscale restaurants with the visually appealing food -- he should have known the difference between fancy food and an attempt at it.
"Her food is actually edible now! The last time, I -- " Winona started, leaning forward as though divulging a great secret. Which it really wasn't.
"Winona, please..." Flannery pleaded, turning nearly as bright as her hair. Steven found it amusing, but when Flannery noticed the secretive grin on his face, she kicked him under the table. A bruise to go with his stomped toe. Only Flannery could be so thoughtful...
"She started a fire!" Winona chirped. Flannery groaned.
"Winnie, they didn't have to know that!"
The talk went on for a few more minutes, until Flannery stood abruptly, taking her plate and some others before going to the kitchen. Steven trailed after her, unsure of her current mood.
"Flannery? Are you okay?" He asked cautiously.
"I'm calling off my friendship with Winona." Flannery said darkly, dumping the plates and silverware in the sink and turning on the tap.
"Why?" He was pretty sure he knew the reason exactly, but he needed to hear it from her lips to be sure.
"Because... because... She stole the guy I liked." She deflated, slumping onto the counter.
A-ha!
"You liked... Wallace?"
"Yeah. Once." She admitted, turning the faucet off and adding the soap.
"What's there to like about him?" Steven blinked, looking back to see the lovebirds cuddling. Wallace was one of his closest friends, and he knew just what lurked under there, and it wasn't always prim and proper.
"You wouldn't understand." Always with that excuse!
"You make it seem as though I don't understand anything!"
"And you probably don't!" Flannery snapped, setting the soap bottle down with a bang. "Have you ever had your heart broken because of a close friend?"
"Yes, I have." Steven said derisively. He sat himself up on the edge of the countertop, legs swinging childishly. Flannery glared at him a moment before sighing morosely.
"I'm sorry. But you probably wouldn't."
"And why not?"
"There's one big major difference."
"And that is?"
"I'm a girl." She snorted.
"Ohh, and that solves all of life's mysteries!"
"Don't be sarcastic."
Steven rolled his eyes.
"Women are much more complex than men. Men aren't the superiors in intellect."
"And fashion, too, I'm guessing?"
"Of course. Fashion, intellect, in battling..."
"Hey! Who's the champion here?"
"I don't see any champion." Flannery huffed, drying off her hands with a nearby towel.
"Flannery!"
"Reality check: You are the former champion. The current champs are Brendan and May." She reminded him as a mother would remind a misbehaving child. Steven scowled.
"At least I used to be a champion."
"Admit defeat, Steven. You know I'm right." The smile was returning, and deep down, that was all Steven really wanted. But he wouldn't go down without a fight at the least.
"Why don't we have a battle and see about that?"
"You're on!"
"Loser... Hm... Loser has to do the dishes!"
"Deal."
They shook hands and went outside.
Meanwhile...
"Is it just me, or are they connecting?" Winona asked Wallace, eyebrows raised as they watched the two go outside, taunting each other.
"There are definitely sparks, but I'm not really sure."
Outside...
"Ha! Fire types beat Steel any day!"
"But Ground..."
"Screw you, Steven."
"What a polite thing to say! And to the former champ nonetheless!"
"Stop being so arrogant!"
"You think I can help it? I -- "
Steven twitched as his smoldering Metagross fell to his feet. Flannery blew a raspberry at him, pulling down the skin underneath one of her eyes.
This would be one interesting battle...
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End I
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...Y'know, only the newbie writer asks reviewers what should happen. Unless you're seriously in a rut with your writing, you shouldn't do that.
:Bashes self: I'm never running a poll again... Never... never... never...
