Her niece didn't look ill, but Imogen could see Eve wasn't at all herself. She was quiet, that was it. She hadn't asked for anything to eat. Hadn't insisted on seeing her pokémon, either.
"Has Mum driven him off again?" Eve demanded, without any real fire.
"Even your mother's prepared to admit he's not a Townie lout."
"She called him a semi-literate lout," Eve pointed out. "Did he really attack it with his knife?"
"Apparently."
Eve giggled weakly. "So like him."
That wasn't Eve's giggle. Gabby's already hugged her half a hundred times. Aha. I have it.
"By my reckoning your literate Townie boy has earned a reward."
"Yeah, he has," Eve said. "Don't know how I'm gonna do that while I'm, well, here."
"I can think of one way," Imogen said brightly. "Oh, look, you already have a bed!"
"Get out!"
"I'll stand guard, make sure the nurses give you some privacy. How long do you need?"
"Get out!" Eve yelled, her cheeks flushing.
That reanimated you all right, Imogen thought, smiling to herself. She cheekily flounced out before Eve took it into her head to start throwing things. She almost walked into her sister, who immediately sized up the situation.
"Nothing!" Imogen lied sweetly. Gabby's face said she didn't believe it as she closed the door behind her.
Josh was sitting outside, by himself. A serious boy, Imogen thought. A little guy, which had been unexpected given her niece's predilections. That had been her first impression, when Eve had introduced him in Goldenrod City. Tended to be scruffy, too, and that had probably been Gabby's first impression. Not without reason – Imogen took in the ragged tears in his jacket where the ninetales had attacked him, the vaguely hand-shaped bloodstain on the sleeve, legacy of gods-knew-what.
She liked him considerably better than that blockhead Eve had dated in high school. Nevertheless -
Imogen took a seat next to him. "We don't have to take our clothes off,
To have a good time, oh no," she quietly sang.
Josh scowled at her with undisguised irritation. "You never give it a rest, do you?"
"You might want to be a bit nicer to me, Joshua Cook," Imogen said.
"I'm not trying to fuck your niece," he replied sarcastically.
Imogen just smiled, because she rather liked that feistiness, and because she wasn't insulted anyway. Ninetales, haunter, Gabriella, it was apparently all the same to him. The little guy's a cliché, she thought, her thoughts circling back around to Eve.
The doctors said there was a high chance that Nightmare could recur, but. It was a good sign she was well enough to be vibrantly annoyed and embarrassed by her dirty jokes. The psychosomatic hypothermia was over, the pseudo-coma was over. The worst of it was over.
RS Madison poked her head around the door to the CID office. "Where the hell is Josselin?" she said. The nearest detective just shrugged and went back to sifting CCTV footage.
"Well, if you see him, tell him I'm going home at seven whatever happens. I've done enough bloody overtime this month."
Damn that Josselin, Madison thought, he's like a damn ghost the moment he gets back to the nick. She headed off in the direction of the break room, searching through her pockets after painkillers. And thus almost walked right into two senior officers, the Area Captain, whom she hadn't seen for a while - and the Region Commander.
"Captain. Commander Heartwood."
"Looking for me, eh?" Heartwood joked, smiling genially.
"Looking for Josselin," Madison replied flatly. "Actually, do you have a minute?"
"Always do for you. Excuse me," he told the captain briefly. "This a big talk?"
"Break room. I hear someone's been baking."
The break room was pretty typical of places like this – battered furniture, scuffed floor, half-washed kitchenware. Somebody' wife had been baking, and already there was next to nothing left of the cake.
"So what's up, Ruth?" Heartwood said, trying to find a clean mug.
"Did you hear about the incident I attended a couple of nights ago? Cliff Edge Gate Reserve?"
"Something about a rogue haunter?"
"That's it. A Joy and her travel companion," Madison said. "She got the worst of it. Now he wants to be a Ranger."
"No he doesn't," Heartwood instantly said.
"That's what I told him."
"He's just tired and emotional and looking for control."
"I told him that, too. And yet I think he really means it," Madison said.
"So why are you telling me this?"
"He tried to attack the haunter with a knife. Before he released a pokémon."
Heartwood stopped rummaging through the tea bags.
"He shows a remarkable, well, willingness to personally confront pokémon. Twenty-one. No formal qualifications as such, but by all accounts a good woodsman."
"No formal quals?" Heartwood said. He folded his arms. "Come on Ruth, what's the money shot?"
"I'm certain he's a latent psychic. He has Foresight, that's rare, even among psychics. He Teleports like he was born to it. Arthur, I know how the Chancellor feels about outside applicants, but -" Madison stopped, sensing she was overselling it.
"Is he collecting Badges, or what? I can't just order Fairholme to accept him into the Academy."
"He's got a couple. Wouldn't say much else about that."
"Arsing about on the Gym circuit … but you say he's serious?"
That was rhetorical. Madison said nothing, and let him think.
"Alright, how's this," Heartwood said. "If he wins five Badges before the September intake I'll have Fairholme admit him. No – tell him I'll have Fairholme consider him. See what he does."
"Alright. Thanks, Arthur. Now I'm going home."
"Alright. Get some sleep from me! Oh, and tell him this comes from me."
You'd better not prove me wrong, Joshua Cook.