Chapter Fourteen:
Meet and Greet

Disclaimer: I do not own the series Pokémon. Like, at all. It and all its respectable characters are © to Game Freak and Satoshi Tajiri. However, all writing contents and semi-plots here are © to me; unless it is stated otherwise. All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I do not own them.

Notes: Welcome to the new readers! I would love to hear feedback from y'all, if it can be spared! I'm glad to have y'all coming in, and I welcome the regulars as well!

Also, yesterday was my birthday, so I'm giving you guys a gift! I know it's two days off from my usual Sunday updates but hey, I'm twenty-nine now—I can break from schedule for this one little thing! Oh, and yikes. I hit over 10k words for this chapter. I guess consider this a big gift?

Current Team: Keno the Marshtomp, Sela the Poochyena, Ambrose the Ralts, Faye the Taillow, Breela the Shroomish, Luna the Skitty

Badges Won: Stone Badge


"What can I do for you, my dwarves?" [Bilbo] said.
"Kili at your service!" said the one. "And Fili!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.
"At yours and your family's!" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.
"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see," said Kili. "Let us join the throng!"
"Throng!" thought Mr. Baggins. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink."
-"The Hobbit or There and Back Again" by J.R.R. Tolkien


A familiar face swam in the modest sea of faces. Shay had only caught a glimpse of him at first, and dismissed him entirely, but then he came closer and Shay knew who it was.

Brendan.

He hovered on the edge of her vision, popping in and out of view as he slid through the cafeteria line, motioning to the woman behind the counter what he wanted from the steaming silver dishes beyond the Pyrex glass. Shay hesitated, heart fluttering in surprise. He hadn't noticed her.

But of course, he wouldn't. Not when she looked like she'd gone ten rounds in the ring with Mike fucking Tyson. She hasn't seen him in weeks. Not since right before they both had left the lab, staggered though they were.

She carefully and quietly excused herself from the booth, much to the befuddlement of her team, all except for Keno. He stared after Shay, a question on his lips, but the words died as soon as he spotted who Shay had a minute before. He was the only one who recognized Brendan on sight. She heard him filling in the rest of the team behind her as she wove around the tables, slipping past people and their pokémon. Brendan was at the register as she reached him, in the process of paying for his tray of breakfast foods. She tapped him on the shoulder and he startled, whipping his head back and forth, before looking down at her, and jerked in surprise a second time.

"Shay?! Is that you? What—what in the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, you know, I went into the ring instead of the team, decided to win the gym badge on my own merits." Shay grinned tiredly. "You should see the other team. Roxanne wasn't too pleased."

Brendan gaped at her, mouth open and hands going so slack, he nearly dropped his billfold and tray. He shook himself, and hurriedly paid for his meal, and stepped out of line when someone groused from behind them both.

"Oh, piss off, I'm saying hello to a friend, your tray isn't going anywhere." Shay growled at the impatient and haggard-looking man, who scowled right back. She flipped him off, because screw proprieties and manners. She felt like shit.

Brendan apologized over his shoulder as they stepped aside, casting her a reproachful stare as he turned back.

"Seriously, though, Shay. Funny as that first story sounds, I kind of doubt you fought any rock-types lately."

"Woooow," Shay said, and began clapping slowly. "You should be a detective or something, your sleuthing skills are off the charts."

Brendan gave a little bow to her, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you, thank you. It's a side hobby, and for a time, I once aspired to be a smart-ass detective. If not in real life, than perhaps in a television sitcom."

"Like Brooklyn 99?" The words spilled from her before she could filter them and she blanched at her own stupidity. Brendan stared at her, taken aback and puzzled.

"Um…I don't know what that is, but I'm going to assume no?"

Shay quickly waved a dismissive hand at him and motioned for him to follow her. As they made their way to her booth, Brendan pressed on with his earlier inquires.

"Seriously though, Shay. What happened? Does your uncle know what happened? Crap, does my dad know at all?"

Well, shit. She hasn't thought about any of that. She had promised to call Norman after every match, and Professor Birch as well, too. She had been so wrapped in the euphoria of pain medication for her various injuries, the chase after the Team Aqua grunt, the close call arrest after returning to the Pokémon Center with Peeko, the hospital visit, the following recovery…

It really had slipped her mind. She had to squirrel away the mental reminder to give them both a call, as much as she didn't want to, so she may bring them to speed on the recent events that have occurred.

Shay slid back into her side of the booth when they reached it, and Brendan took the other side. He didn't seem to mind or bat an eye as Shay's team crowded around the both of them, returning to their dishes as though another person had not just come into their midst. It was par for the course with him. Brendan's eyes alit upon Keno as he gathered his surroundings, and he smiled at the Marshtomp sitting beside Shay.

"Hey, you took Mudkip from Dad's lab, nice! I was eyeing it for a while but chose a different pokémon after he said you had used it to save his ass a few weeks back. I figured it was the least I could do. Would have been a kind of dick move if I had." His smile was genuine as he flashed it her way, teeth bright and bared in a crescent. "Can you guess which one I took?"

Shay shrugged, but inside she was doing flips. Keno had been the only one that had been a constant in the entirety of her choice when she had taken him up as her partner. Professor Birch hadn't revealed what pokémon Brendan had taken, but since he hadn't taken Keno, there was only one logical choice.

Just like in the games, it had to be the only one with a typing strong against Mudkip's water typing.

"Treeko," she said smoothly, masking her smugness with dry disinterest, taking a sip from her mug of coffee. Brendan's smile, to her surprise, grew wider instead of dissipating.

"Actually, no. I didn't take Treeko. I was planning on it, and I almost did. I wanted to have an advantage over you, since I knew you were probably going to take Mudkip after I took my pick."

Shay stared at him, brows beetling together at his explanation. That was certainly a surprise. So that left only…

"So, you…you took Torchic instead?"

Brendan nodded. "The way I figured it, is this: I could take the type advantage, but why make it easy on myself? If I took a fire-type and trained hard with it, I could surpass you, even with a disadvantage. I bet my pokémon could take yours down, easy-peasy."

Well, if that wasn't a bold assertion, then Shay didn't know what was. She stared at him, incredulous, and judging by the wide grin that practically swallowed his face whole with just how big it was, Brendan knew it had thrown her completely off-kilter. She didn't like that dumb grin he flashed her, or that hungry, glittering gleam in his eye as he stared her down, waiting for her to accept his challenge.

It took her a good long thirty seconds to realize this.

"Ugh. Fine. If I get to wipe that stupid look off of your face, I'll battle you, just…let's eat first." Shay motioned vaguely to the spread around them, and she heard the soft murmurs of relief from her team. Luna especially gave a growl of approval as she dove back into her bowl with gusto. Keno squirmed in the booth seat beside Shay, glancing between Brendan and Shay with anxious energy. Shay glanced at him a few times, feeling her annoyance creeping up before she leaned over to him.

"What is it?"

"Maybe you should sit this out. You're still not…well, you know…"

She sighed, her agitation deflating all at once at the fretful tone of his voice. She wrapped an arm around him, pressing him flush to her.

"Relax. I'll be okay and so will you. Okay?"

Keno stared at her, concern still glimmering in his tiger-orange eyes, even as he inclined his head uncertainly at her. Brendan began to dig into his food as well, and Shay picked at hers, her appetite still not having made a full comeback. The most she'd done, before she had even seen Brendan, was guzzle down her coffee. It was the most she could stomach, even with the anti-nausea meds helping. Brendan seemed to notice her sparse pickings and frowned over his own mug. He set it down with a soft clink and a sigh.

"Seriously, though Shay…what the hell happened to you? You never did say."

"Team Aqua happened," she grunted back, the taste of coffee souring in her mouth at the thought. Brendan's eyes went wide, mouth pulling open into a small 'O' as he stared at her, incredulity painted across his face. Shay kept her eyes trained on a particular bent piece of the table's rim, where it bubbled upwards and disturbed the rest of the otherwise flatness of the surface. Her entire fucking face hurt like hell, but the medication was helping dull it down to a more tolerable level. She felt the eyes of her team sans Ambrose locked on her, frozen in time, even as the world kept on spinning.

Slowly, Shay told Brendan what had transpired the day before, haltingly at first but toward the end of it all, the words were flying out of her mouth, angry and heated and passion all wrapped up in every word. When she finished, the silence between them simmering and almost violent. Her hands were shaking, her breath stuttering in her chest as it caught in her throat. She clenched her fingers into fists in her lap under the table, holding on to the tension and releasing after every count of five.

Brendan said nothing, taking the time to draft up his words before opening his mouth.

"I…I'm so sorry, Shay. Really, I am. You're spunky, though. I got to hand it to you on that front. And you're pretty damned determined." Brendan offered her a small smile, but it was as fleeting as a summer's breeze. His expression sobered, growing serious as he studied her face. Shay had to fight to keep from fidgeting under his intense blue gaze. "But honestly…what you did was pretty dangerous and stupid. Why didn't you just wait for the authorities?"

"Di…did you not hear me earlier?" Shay blurted, her brow furrowing in puzzled exasperation. "That jackass was strangling Peeko by the time I caught up! If I hadn't gotten there in time, she'd be dead. By the time those incompetent assholes at the police department finally got off their lazy asses to go after that grunt, he would have killed Peeko and dumped her body in the Rusturf Tunnel, and possibly found a way to get away scot-free with the goods he stole from Devon! Even Peeko's trainer said so himself to the cops' faces: they failed to take his report seriously and did it all half-assed. He told them a man took his pokémon, and they tried arresting me instead when I brought Peeko in to get help!"

Brendan threw up his hands, motioning for her to calm down with the white flag of his actions. Shay's head buzzed angrily like a nest of wasps, her eyes stinging from the rhythmic pounding as she settled in her seat, quietly wishing for the beating of her pulse would simmer down.

"Whoa, whoa. Okay, wow. I was not expecting that hard of a push-back response. I get it. You saw something bad happen, you reacted. Trust me, I get it," he said, letting out a sharp chuff of air past his lips. Beside the booth, she heard a soft snort from Sela and Luna alike. They regarded one another, and as though deciding as one, leapt into the booth, one at a time, to settle against or in Shay's lap. Faye shivered violently behind Shay's head, but it was a sound she had grown up with and knew it well: she was merely puffing up her feathers. Keno pressed in close to Shay's side, his broad hand reaching for hers and gripping tight.

Ambrose's familiar itch-shiver-scratch inside her skull crept through, brief but noticeable. He flashed her a toothy smile from across the table, where he sat beside Brendan quietly. Breela, sitting on the other side of Keno, shook herself, staring up at Shay past the craggy crest of her fungi-encrusted brow, her little black eyes beady and unblinking. The squat little Shroomish's lips pulled into a nervous yet supportive smile.

Brenden sighed, briefly taking off the now-familiar mop of a white hat, running his hand through his dark yet unkempt and thick hair. It stuck up in all directions, mussed by the presence of his hat, and he attempted to smooth it all down. He must have realized it was futile and tugged it back on, then let his hand plop back down on the tabletop.

"Crap. I…sorry. That's not what I…ahhhh. I didn't mean to make it sound like you shouldn't have stepped in to help. Far from it, Shay. I just meant…" Brenden let out another sigh, heavy and forlorn. His blue eyes seemed almost grey as he lowered his head, his gaze hooded and dark. He began picking at the remains of his morning meal. "I don't even know. I guess it's good you stepped in. Peeko's back home, it sounds like, happy and healthy. The goods were recovered, and I assume you've either already returned them or you're going to soon, right?"

Shay bobbed her head, gentle and small, mindful of the throbbing ache that arced through her skull and neck as she did. Her eyes watered, and she had to focus on the slow inhale-exhale of her breaths, but shortly, she felt it beginning to fade, faster than she anticipated. Ambrose's presence lingered, and slowly, she realized he was helping, the pain soothed under the sudden cooling balm of his presence. The smile on his white-furred face remained. "Yeah. I'm gonna return it later today. Might as well, before I forget. My head's been kind of…staticky, like it's on constant pins and needles, if that makes sense. Not quite all there, like everything's leaking out."

"Well, if the doc says you've got a concussion, that would make sense," he drawled back in agreement. "You should take it easy for a few days, just like he told you to, before you go back for another check."

Keno's hand squeezed hers in response, and she could see him staring at her in silent agreement.

"Ha. It looks like your Marshtomp's got the same idea for you." Brendan laughed, tipping his head in Keno's direction. "We can postpone our battle, if you'd like. I'm actually going to be staying in Rustboro for a few days myself, training up and doing research for my dad. I suggest you rest up, go to your follow-up, and get those goods back to Devon, before they come looking for them."

They scuttled out of the booth together, trays in hand, trailed after by Shay's team. Brendan shot their entirety a bemused expression as he paused to wait as they collected together.

"Why do you have your whole team out with you? Most you should have if you want company is, well, maybe your Marshtomp."

Shay felt Faye's claws digging into her shoulder as the little Taillow fluttered after her. She paused to stoop down to pick up Breela, tucking the small girl into her arms. Breela shivered in the crook of Shay's arm, humming contentedly.

"I like it when they're all out," she simply replied, feeling both emboldened by their presence and self-conscious by her answer. Brendan stared after her team, before alighting his gaze back to her and he shrugged.

"All right, I guess, it's your choice."

Brendan took the lead, his longer stride outpacing Shay's. She was in no hurry to quicken her steps after him and followed leisurely after him. He waited for her as she downed the last of her coffee before putting the mug on top of the collection basket of used dishes near the exit of the cafeteria and walked with her to the front of the Pokémon Center's lobby.

"So, I'm guessing you're planning on resting for the rest of the day?"

Shay wanted nothing more than to do just that. Her very bones ached, heavy and leaden, and her muscles were singing with fatigue, wanting to settle in the weightlessness of the mattress in her room. Instead, with a weary voice, she replied, "No. Unfortunately, I have some property to return that isn't mine, and like you said…I don't want Devon sending anyone after me, looking for their stuff. I'll go drop that off and then come back here."

"Ah. That is true, I did say that. Well, do you want me to walk you there? It's a little out of my way, but I don't mind all that much."

Brendan dithered on the spot, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he waited for her answer, appearing hopeful and expectant. Shay considered the proposition but shook her head in the end. She noticed that slight deflation in his face at her declining his offer.

"No, I think I got it. I'll see you later, though."

"Ah. Okay, I guess." He mulled over her answer, and then a light sparked up in his eyes, brightening them as thought a bolt of lightning had lit them up from within. "Great. Then how about we grab a bite to eat later? I can check up on you, make sure you're doing okay, and you can actually get something in your stomach. Don't think I didn't notice you picking at your food rather than eating it."

Shay flushed, feeling a mite embarrassed at his pointed observation. She also realized he was hovering quite close, watching her carefully, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"Fine. Fine. Just…" she sighed. "Can we get something other than cafeteria food?"

It reminded her too much of chow hall food, and it reminded her too much of all the heart burn that food always gave her. The coffee honestly was the only delectable that she could stomach.

Brendan considered her, bobbing his head a few times.

"That sounds fair. As much as I like a cheaper meal, it does leave a lot left to be desired," he replied with a silly smile as he cast a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder toward the front desk. "And between you and me, their oatmeal was pretty dang watery. Not enough oats!"

"I wouldn't know, I don't like oatmeal."

The thought of it made her stomach flip-flop, honestly. The texture, the taste, the smell—everything about it offended her, and the idea of having to shovel the slop into her mouth made her clench her jaw to keep from dry-heaving.

"Whaaat? That's nuts. You're crazy, lady!" Brendan belted out another laugh, looking positively tickled at Shay's admission. A smile alit her face in spite of her best efforts, and he pointed at her in faux-dramatic fashion.

"AHA! You can smile. You've been kind of grim most of the morning. Glad to see you haven't lost touch with your inner child."

He turned from her, popping a smart salute with two fingers over his shoulder at her. "I guess I'll see you later, Shay! Oh, right, wait—what's your room number? I'll swing by around dinnertime!"

Shay told him and he took it to heart before he practically skipped out of the lobby, a new pep in his step as he left. Shay watched him until he disappeared around the bend of the automatic doors.


The Devon Corporation's official building was a skyscraper, all elegant curves of glass and metal. It was nothing like the original art, from either the original Sapphire and Ruby games or the remakes. It stood out amongst the city's more conservative and orderly streets of brownstone, brick, and limestone townhouses that seemed to be the norm of Rustboro's architectural design. It was one of the few buildings, in fact, that broke the pattern, and they were liberally scattered and sprinkled across Rustboro.

She closed the back door of the taxi she had taken, and the cabbie watched her from beneath his cap, frowning as he rolled down a window to address her. "I ain't waiting for ya, lady. You're gonna have to find another ride when you're done here."

"That's fine," she replied, turning to give him a wave with her free hand. He shrugged, his job complete, and he pulled away from the curb when he was clear to rejoin the streets. A few business people were standing about in front of the Devon Corporation building, either talking and smoking with one another, or on the phone. She spotted a few people in lab coats as well, looking exhausted or relieved or enjoying the mid-morning warmth.

Shay made her way across the concrete entrance, climbing steps to make her way to the revolving entryway. The lobby was, surprisingly and very unlike the outer skin of the building, somewhat similar to what she recalled of the games: the stone flooring was made of marble, and every step that every person made echoed across the wide expanse. Pale cream and light chocolate marble were laid out smoothly the whole way, from wall to wall, gleaming and polished smooth as glass. Tucked away in corners, out of the main flow of foot traffic, Shay noticed tables of clear glass studded with tall stools; a small in-house coffee shop was lined up against the far back wall, with a moderately generous amount of people and their pokémon milling about, sipping from thermoses of all sorts. The smell of roasting coffee beans perfumed the air and settled Shay's nerves somewhat.

The centerpiece of the floor, however, was what caught Shay's eye the most. Standing between her at the door and the reception desk across the vast space opposite of Shay, was a vast collection of fossils imbedded beneath the treading feet of passersby. Fossilized shells and bones; petrified coral and wood and imprints of leaves and feathers; and the intricate tiny bones of fish and amphibians and birds. They were all laid bare and carefully, meticulously arranged, dark as a void despite the fluorescent lighting from both above them and from the mid-morning sunlight streaming through the glass bay windows. It was all so intricate and beautiful. If Shay had the time, she probably would have stayed just to trace her eyes across the landscape sitting behind glass below her.

Shay carefully tread forward, eyes drawn to the intricate curves and lines of every fossil, hungrily drinking in the details, her brow beetling together as she tried in vain to pull anything of familiarity out of their shapes like she had at Roxanne's gym the other day. Her grip tightened on the handle of the silver case as she padded her way along toward the reception desk. She felt eyes seeming to slowly but surely gravitate to her, some curious and dismissive, others lingering and heavy. A young woman—pretty and curvaceous with shining, sleek platinum blonde hair and donning a smartly pressed pantsuit and a flawless makeup job painting her face—sat behind the desk, manning its entirety with ease and decisiveness. A security guard sat on the far side of her, eyes drawn to what Shay could only assume was a series of monitor screens depicting security cameras.

Shay waited as the woman handled a few other visitors ahead of her, until she turned her sharp, vibrant blue gaze to Shay—bright and fevered with delight, like sunlight brightening tropical waters to crystal-clear clarity—and her plump red lips remained curved in a smile as she swiveled in her seat. Shay noticed her teeth were very bright, white, and straight.

"Hey there, how can I help you today?"

"Um," Shay said, feeling herself flub at the very last moment. "I-I…I uh, I have this. This was stolen. Not by me, I'm returning it. I took it back from the thief. The original thief, who took it from one of your, uh, scientist dudes. Employees. Whatever."

The woman's smile faltered, dropping away, as she watched Shay lift the silver case up for her to see.

"I didn't open it, if that helps. I don't know what's in here. I don't really want to know, actually. I just wanted to bring this back."

Shay noticed the security guard had turned to look at her, his gaze sharp and probing. She saw him lean across the desk, away from where she stood, and his head momentarily bobbed out of sight. The low murmuring buzz of the inner lobby grew louder and heavier to Shay's ears as the woman turned to the security guard, her thinly plucked brows beetling together quizzically as she waited, her lips pursing together.

Her blue gaze clouded, grew darker, as she flicked them to glance over at Shay, now fidgeting on the spot. A ball of ice began growing heavy and sharp in her chest while a shiver began creeping up from the base of her spine to the back of her skull.

Crap, crap, crap. Please don't tell me they're calling the cops again.

The panic threatened to claw its way out of her throat in a pathetic moan, but she managed to gulp it back down, hard and sharp like bone shards catching with every swallow. Her stomach slithered lower into her abdomen at the thought of crossing paths with law enforcement all over again, going through yet another dance of accusations hurled at her. She was damn near ready to drop the case and bolt, as she felt the ice spread across her body, numbing and deceptive, as it slipped past her limbs and into her digits. She wanted to run, but her body was a lead weight, too frozen to move. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible, true, but she managed to just barely stifle the panic that threatened to consume her completely.

Years of being glared down at by officers and higher ups alike were ingrained into her, so she stood her ground with jaw clenched and shoulders set.

Several times, the receptionist nodded, murmuring softly to the security guard, who had finally popped back up, a phone pressed to his ear. He would on occasion glance at her, nodding his head and the sharp "Yes, sir," she could just barely make out, before he hung up and stood. The receptionist turned back to Shay; her smile still damningly missing. The security guard stood, and she could hear the jangle of keys, and in an almost typical fashion, he had his hands resting on his belt. She noticed a series of pokéballs clinging to his belt, alongside the typical garb of a security guard.

He kept his distance from Shay, eyes drifting sharply to the silver case still in her grip and he motioned for her to come forward.

"Ma'am? Will you come with me?"

She couldn't feel her legs, let alone force them to move.

"I-I just want to return this; I don't want any trouble."

The security guard—whose nametag Shay could now read as "Thomas"—remained unmoved by her lame remark.

"You misunderstand. Please, follow me."

Without any further preamble or explanation, he motioned for her to follow once again. Her stomach all but dropped away, left behind right there in the middle of the lobby floor, as she somehow managed to lurch forward on sluggish feet after Thomas the security guard.

He led her through the lobby, across the smooth as glass marble stone flooring as it winked and gleamed merrily in the lights. It made Shay's head hurt all the more. It was too much, too bright. Deeper into the confines of the building they strode, toward a vestibule where a series of elevator doors were opening and closing. It was mostly empty, with only one or two people passing them by. Thomas led her to the first available one, motioning with a sweep of a hand for her to get in first. Her grip tightened around the case's handle again. She had the sudden urge to reach for her knife, to feel the comforting contours of it in order to settle her nerves. She fought the impulse, but knowing it was in her back pocket, within easy reach, was enough of a relief.

At least he hadn't patted her down. That was another thought that crossed her mind.

The doors slid shut after an eternity standing open, and the heady lift of the elevator rose quietly on its hydraulics. The silence between herself and the security guard was stagnant and awkward. He didn't offer any information, and she didn't ask, either. Molasses seemed to have gummed up her teeth and wired her jaw shut, and as much as she wanted to ask where he was taking her, she was starting to garner a mounting suspicion.

No one has seemed to have called the cops. Instead, she was being escorted to…well, she wanted to assume the top floor. Chances were, it was straight to the head honcho of the Devon Corporation, Mister Stone.

The Champion's dear old dad, Shay thought, and the thought made her mouth run dry and a sour taste build at the back of her throat. And if this is following the pattern of the game narrative, and I do meet with Mister Stone, than he's going to ask I take a letter to Steven.

She clenched her jaw as her thoughts continued turning gears, slow and laborious, but unhindered, undaunted.

That means I can either do one of two things: tell that bastard off and make him quake in his damn boots because he'll know I'm gunning for his title, or I can play it cool, not say a word. Show up on his doorstep when I've got all eight badges and beat his ass like a rented mule.

Before she could continue to mull on the possibilities, the elevator came to a soft, humming halt and the doors opened with a quiet ping of arrival. Thomas motioned for her to step off first, and he followed.

A receptionist's receiving desk with a small waiting area sat before them, the floors made of dark gleaming marble laced with veins of gold. It wasn't the flawless flooring, as attractive as it was that caught Shay's eye. Once more, it was the fossils. The distinguishing and iconic frame of an Aerodactyl hung on wires suspended far above their heads. Its jaws were gaping open, showing off the razor-sharp fangs lining them, while its delicate wing bones were spread out, its tail curving elegantly behind it while its hind legs were braced beneath its body. It was, in a word, huge. Intimidating. It loomed over them, as though flesh would grow across its body once more and it would take to the skies like it once had.

It reminded her of the time she had gone to Quantico, and over the weekend, had hopped a train to Washington D.C. so that she could explore the museums at leisure. The Museum of Natural History had, of course, been a place of interest and she had found herself humbled, excited, and frozen in awe at the gargantuan sizes of prehistoric creatures.

She had found the Tyrannosaurus Rex especially awe-inspiring.

Once upon a time when she had been a child, she had wanted to be a paleontologist.

Then she realized, as she grew older, she wasn't smart enough. Not with the math, at any rate. Math was her worst enemy, the bane of her existence. Her mother, however, often begged to differ and quite often. All those tests done whilst growing up, all those times Shay had been taken out of class or over the summer breaks growing up to perform various academic testing. The results from those tests, her mother had told her, showed she rated the highest with mathematics.

Shay still wondered if any of them had been right, because she struggled with math one too many times, and even gave up the idea of attending any schools for paleontology.

Yet, standing beneath the daunting fossilized remains of the Aerodactyl, she found that quiet, whelming glee rising inside of her, the passion that has since simmered in her belly for years, reignite. She knew that the scientists of this world could revive ancient, fossilized remains of prehistoric creatures—a feat considered impossible in her world, and yet it still inspired a multitude of movie franchises and imaginations alike the globe over.

As interesting as the science of it all probably was, she felt a different passion growing inside her. Her fingers itched for a pen or pencil, a pad of paper, and hours on the leather couch beneath the ancient being to simply draw at her leisure.

Thomas the security guard snapped her out of her thoughtful reverie, bidding her to follow him toward the desk. The receptionist sitting opposite the series of leather loveseats and couches and coffee tables glanced between Shay and Thomas, quirking a dark brow at the both of them. Shay winced under her dark gaze, especially as her boots scuffed noisily across the marble stone beneath her feet. It filled the air around them, preternaturally loud.

Shay glanced at the frosted glass doors at the top of a small rise of stairs beyond this little lobby, noting that there were other fossils in the room—either behind glass display cases or mounted on stands—but none were as overwhelming or impressive as the Aerodactyl's massive frame hovering above them was.

Thomas exchanged a series of queries to the woman behind the receptionist's desk, his voice low and quiet. It sounded muffled to Shay's ears, and she didn't even bother to listen. Her eyes kept straying back upwards, studying the curves, inclines, dips, and points of the Aerodactyl. Thomas finally turned to her when he finished with the woman, and with another nod, led her up the frosted glass doors.

Shay's grip remained taut and white-knuckled around the handle of the case and it banged against her leg every other step. The case itself and its contents weren't that heavy, true, but she wouldn't be surprised if she gained yet another bruise from this venture to return these stolen goods. Thomas lingered at the door as he opened it, ushering Shay inside.

A long conference table, elegant and shining, occupied most of the room. The wood was rich and tawny-gold in colour, with a ring of adjustable office chairs looped around its sides. The flooring, unlike the rest of what Shay had already seen, was a mixture of marble, glass, and wood. The walls curved, bowing outward, and a more personable office desk followed the curve of the walls, with a series of screens, glowing with screensavers advertising the Devon Corporations several public assets, sat. Behind the persona desk, a series of shelves were built right into the wall, and it was simply stacked, from floor to ceiling, with tomes of all sizes, shapes, lengths. A series of display cases, once again showing off even more fossils, lined the wall.

Beyond the room, where sunlight freely filtered in, were a series of floor-to-ceiling bay windows with shades lifted and a set of glass double-doors. The doors currently stood open, allowing a lofty breeze to come in as well as show off a gleaming balcony. Shay suspected if she were to walk out onto that balcony, she'd be able to see all of Rustboro and beyond. It was a bird's eye view, if there ever was.

Shay wasn't alone in the room. A vaguely familiar scrawny man was sitting at the conference table, his back to her. Another man—tall with broad shoulders, dressed in a three-piece suit of dark blue, almost black, white hair, and an air of authority oozing from him—sat at the head of the table adjacent to the other.

The both of them swiveled in their seats, turning to stare as Shay entered the room, clutching the silver case in her white-knuckled grip. The white-haired gentleman smiled, eyes flicking from Shay to Thomas.

"Thank you, we'll take it from here, Thomas," he said in way of greeting and dismissal all at once. Thomas murmured an affirmative and took his leave, closing the frosted glass doors behind him. Shay dithered on the spot, waiting. The suit stood, turning his kindly smile on her and stood, walking toward her.

"Come in, come in, my dear. Please, sit."

Shay's legs felt stiff and heavy as she lurched forward. The man, whom she could only assume was Mister Stone, halted in his trek, a light frown of concern crossing his features as he studied her.

The other man—bespectacled, lanky, tall, and sporting quite the shiner himself, as well as a puffy, crooked nose—stared at her in a hopeful manner, practically vibrating with barely contained energy.

Slowly, she recalled why he was so familiar to her. This was the man with whom the Team Aqua grunt had tangled with and stolen the very goods in Shay's hands from.

As soon as she was within reach, Mister Stone clapped his hand gently on her shoulder, still assessing her with that hard frown on his face.

"My dear, I'm not sure how or why you did what you did, but I am very glad you have. I want to thank you for having come all this way to return that which was stolen. I'd heard from one of my employees of how they were accosted in the Petalburg Woods a few weeks ago by one of these…Team Aqua fellows. And now, we've had another employee attacked in an equally vicious manner, and yet against all odds, we've had our property recovered!"

"That was me, actually," Shay blurted, and when the older man stared at her, clearly puzzled, she awkwardly bumbled onwards, "I helped your guy in the woods, I mean. From that Team Aqua jackass."

That explanation took a few moments for him to puzzle out before appraisal washed over his face.

"Are you serious? You—you're the one who helped both my people out? Well now!"

Mister Stone beamed at her, his teeth perfect and straight and very white, like a shark's smile. A friendly shark, but still a shark, nonetheless. He was being perfectly civil and kind and endearing to her, but she had no doubt this man could turn ruthless when it came down to it. The very thought, as it crossed her mind, sent a shiver down her spine. She could barely muster a smile to return Mister Stone's broad beam as he motioned for her come toward the conference table and she took a seat opposite the bespectacled man.

"Ah, where are my manners? My name is Augustus Stone, and I am the President of Devon Corporation. And this is one of my leading scientists, Daniel Tanaka."

"Please, call me DJ." The man sitting opposite Shay smiled, awkward and quiet as he spoke. He gave her a relieved smile, but there was a twitchiness that she didn't fail to notice.

"Oh. Oh, sorry. Here. Your stuff. Um…I didn't look in it, if that's what you're worried about."

Shay threw the silver case up onto the table, and as she controlled its fall, she noticed that, just like the floor in the lobby, the table was not what it seemed to be: there were fossils on display in the middle, encased and sealed away from the world. She tore her roving gaze away and offered the silver case to DJ.

"Oh, no, no, no. I wouldn't have minded if you did. It's mostly just blueprints, paperwork, designs. Very technical. I doubt you'd understand most of it." DJ said, and rather dismissively as he took the case and popped open the latches, already lost in sifting through the contents. Shay shot him a perturbed and hurt look, but said nothing.

Mister Stone took his seat at the head of the table, looking at DJ intently, his silvery-blue eyes studious.

"Is everything as it should be, Daniel?"

"Yes. It appears to all be here. And the parts aren't even damaged." DJ dropped the case's cover back down, relieved. "It appears…oh. Oh, we never caught your name, have we?"

"Right. My name's Shay Kenway."

"Miss Kenway, you've done a rather enormous service in retrieving this when I failed to keep it safe the other day. Thank you very much," DJ inclined his head toward her, then hesitated, looking pained as he studied her face. "I'm sorry to have caused you any distress. Are all your injuries…?"

Shay resisted the urge to reach up and touch her puffy face. "I'm good. Yeah, no. I have a concussion and some fractures, but I'm—I'm good."

Mister Stone and DJ exchanged a look with one another; DJ was easier to read like an open book: Shay could see the shift between shock and guilt as they played off one another across the expanse of his face. Mister Stone, in comparison held his emotions in check. The older man leaned forward, hands steepling together as he leaned his chin on the backs of them, whilst his elbows rested on the table. He nodded to DJ.

"Daniel, you can go back to work, if you'd like. But, please—leave the case. I have a favour to ask of Miss Kenway."

DJ faltered, but he was quick to nod, and got up, quickly vacating the office at a shuffle. The frosted doors closed quietly in the wake of his departure. Mister Stone waited until they clicked shut and turned to Shay when they had.

"I truly am sorry for the trouble, Miss Kenway. I truly do owe you a debt. My people, they do have their eccentric studies and work. But this," he said, laying a hand upon the silver case. "It's small, but it's sorely needed elsewhere. Daniel was supposed to have this sent out to a client of ours in Slateport, but since he was waylaid by these…confounding terrorists, perhaps I should rethink how they reach their intended destination."

Shay breathed in deeply, holding it until the count of three. "You want me to deliver them to this client instead of one of your own people."

Mister Stone nodded in response. "Yes. I fear that if Team Aqua is watching my people, perhaps we should kick in our security, make sure any goods that leave this building be through secret couriers to prevent any further future thefts, and any goods we receive in are screened thoroughly. Who knows what those maniacs might try later on down the line, or who they might try to target?"

He shook himself, genuine sorrow drifting across his face like the drifting of falling leaves in the wind.

"I know that I ask a lot of you, Miss Kenway, but I can only assume that you are a League Challenger?"

"Yeah, but…how did you know?"

Mister Stone smiled. "I am a very powerful man, and I do have a number of friends in the Rustboro Police Department."

That cryptic answer took Shay a moment to decipher. She chuffed at him, leaning against the back of her seat.

"You knew I was coming."

Mister Stone uncoupled his fingers, spreading them in a motion of surrender. It was a damning enough admission.

"Of course, I did. Daniel reported the goods stolen not long after being accosted a few days earlier, and when the police came back with an update to the report, I told them to stand by on the matter when they came to mention you and your…involvement." Mister Stone offered her a paternal look, his gaze softening up as he watched her. Shay wasn't entirely sure if she should be alarmed or comforted by the singular notion. "I was also very interested when another one of my employees earlier this month came to me, beaten much the same way Daniel was, but with a similar story of how a young lady came to his aid in Petalburg Woods. When he gave a description that matched the same one as what the police offered, I had a substantially exceptional feeling about where this might eventually lead."

Mister Stone darted his eyes toward the silver case that now lay on the table, closed and still innocuous enough. He rested the palm of his hand atop the case. When he lifted his gaze to meet hers, his smile faded and Shay straightened in her seat, as though she were under a general's radar suddenly. And she's been in that position once before.

It was never a comfortable feeling, no matter how amicable a meeting between the two of them may be.

"I would have sent someone, however, if you chose to not return the rightful property of Devon Corporation. It would have been nothing personal, it's just—"

"—just good business," Shay finished for him, her mouth and throat a column of sandstone, nary a drop of moisture to be found. The phrase chilled her down to her bones, almost as though they had suddenly become dry ice. She was afraid to move, terrified that if she did she'd shatter her body or worse still, it'd spread all over and she'd become a statue, frozen solid in her seat.

Mister Stone took pause, assessing her with those silvery-blue eyes that held little warmth, even when he smiled at her.

"Yes. Good business. Speaking of, I don't plan on hoisting this request upon you without compensation."

He then laid out his payment plan to her: half now as an incentive to deliver the parts, and she'd receive the other half upon delivery, when confirmed by its recipient. To say the least, the amount he offered, in full when the job was completed, was…intimidating. It was certainly much more than what she'd expect the delivery would have cost utilizing normal methods.

"And who am I supposed to be meeting, exactly?"

Once more, she found the answer she was looking for, before he even spoke.

"The man you'll be looking for is Captain David Stern. He's a rather important figure in Slateport. He owns the shipping yard and runs the Oceanography Museum there and helped established the construction of the main cruise ship that travels between Slateport and Lilycove." There was a sense of pride Shay sensed as the man spoke. She found out why when he added, "He did, of course, utilize a number of Devon Corporation technology when putting in the finer details of his ships and while also performing his scientific duties as an oceanographer."

Ah, there it was. It wasn't the work Mister Stone was interested in, it was the amount of attention and press his tech would get for being utilized above all other brands. The more coverage and use his company's products got, the more opportunities there were for his company to make deals, garner more funding, and more freedom to push the boundaries of what they developed.

Mister Stone took her silence as a sign of awe and he chuckled.

"Yes, I know, it's quite impressive. His work has really changed the way scientists look at the ocean, the mapping of its topography and currents, as well as the study of the various ecosystems beyond our coastlines. Devon Corporation's technology are top notch and we wouldn't know half as much as we do without it." Mister Stone was beaming as he patted the silver case. "As you can see, this is a very important task I need done—and as I mentioned previously, I'd rather trust this to you for discretionary purposes rather than the usual delivery methods. If my people are being watched and targeted, then I'm sure my usual methods of delivery can be targeted as well. But a trainer delivering these to Captain Stern? Team Aqua won't expect it!"

"Why do you think they want these…parts?"

The man across from her frowned, his glittering mirth all but disappearing and his eyes darkened until they looked like chips of ice beset upon by an oncoming storm. A flash of helplessness skittered across his face—brief, but noticeable. Shay leaned forward, pressing against the hard corner of the table as she waited.

"I can't really say. Who knows what those crazy bastards want from me or my people. My tech, obviously, but…I can't say for what, but what I can guess…" Mister Stone sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth, a realization striking him. He shook himself, and whatever thoughts he had away. "I don't even want to fathom why. I'm just glad that these were recovered before they could be used for…whatever they planned on using it all for."

He waited, patience written across his face with a practiced poker face—neutral calm and stolid. Shay fretted internally at the decision weighing on her. If she accepted, she'd be further pushing a narrative that wasn't hers to begin with.

It should be May sitting here, she thought bitterly with a tinge of anger. For the umpteenth time, she wondered why she had been dragged to this world the way she had. Why any of the people who had been brought here, forced from their homes, their lives. She wondered where they were, what they were doing to get by. She wondered why it was that the Creation Trio were still warring with one another, and if they were still causing disruptions across Sinnoh.

All news feeds have gone uncomfortably dark on that matter. Instead, the newscasters preferred focusing on matters in Hoenn, with perhaps a few odds and ends stories in the other regions—all of them, except for Sinnoh.

She made a mental note to try and go digging for anything she could. The more she did find, the more she could prepare for when she could leave for Sinnoh.

Turning her mind back to the present, Shay looked Mister Stone in the eye and nodded to him, the way she would with any of her Staff NCOs, or her officers in charge. She'd do the job, because if she followed the narrative—which seemed to be rather unavoidable at this point, in her opinion—then Shay could move along with greater ease toward her final end goal.

The older man smiled at her, broad and bright, once again giving her the impression of a shark. All teeth and no humour. He was a man who didn't much like the word "no" being told to him.

"Wonderful," he said in obvious approval, clapping his hands together. Without further preamble, Mister Stone turned to the case once again, popping the latches and lifted something small wrapped in a cloth. It was knobby and irregular shaped, but what it was, Shay couldn't fathom. She took it, feeling its weight and was surprised at how light it was. She cradled it close, but lifted her head to see Mister Stone gathering papers together, shuffling them tightly. He handed these to her, and then lastly, a flash drive with a hard enamel casing. It was glossy black and small and had no markings on it whatsoever.

"I'll get you a fold for those papers—I told Daniel to put them in one. One moment, my dear…"

The older man stood, pushing his chair in as he did, and strode briskly off toward his desk. He rifled through a few drawers before coming back with an empty folder and helped her scuttle the papers into it. She carefully pulled her sling pack around and stored the parts and the flash drive away but couldn't fit the papers in—not without bending them in half.

Mister Stone appraised everything before giving her a final nod of approval, another smile alighting his face.

"Brilliant, my dear. Now, if I could have your information, I will have the money wired to your trainer account and…"

Shay went through the motions, smiling when appropriate and nodding as well. She was good at that. Years of practice at playing the part in previous units helped her play the part of compliance. She was a little ashamed to admit, the money was a tempting factor enough on why she had taken the job as well and it made her stomach burn at the conflict roiling inside her.

Having enough money to ensure the comfort of her team was hard enough now. This extra boost could help her maintain that for a while longer, so long as she didn't splurge on dumb shit like an idiot. Everything I buy, I have to carry with me. That's more weight I have to maintain on my back and shoulders and hips, more weight I have to manage. The more weight I take on, the more likely I'll hurt myself.

But this first half of the job was paying her more than she ever made in six months alone at a sergeant's pay in the Marine Corps. She still had to make the other half. It was insane, to say the least. It almost made her want to scream, if only to feel the catharsis and relief and reality of it all. Mister Stone really didn't want any of his tech falling into the wrong hands.

No, no, no screaming. I'll make this headache even worse…

She could already feel the painful tempo behind her eyes increasing, the pressure building up at the back of her neck and along the front of her skull. It kept building up as though it was threatening to push her eyeballs right out of their sockets, swollen and bruised flesh or no.

Mister Stone saw her to the door, offering to have a company car waiting for her by the time she made it downstairs. Shay considered it, chewing on the inside of her cheeks. Grudgingly, she relented. She didn't want to have to wait for a cab and then pay for it.

"Yes, please," she replied, her voice hoarse and tired. She was drained. This entire excursion was weighing on her shoulders, heavier than she had originally expected. She almost didn't want to deal with Brendan later on, but she'd suck it up. Shay hasn't seen him in weeks and didn't want to brush him off so abruptly and at the last minute.

Take some meds, take a nap when you get back. You'll be right as rain, or close enough to it.

Mister Stone walked her to the frosted glass doors, and she was just within inches of freedom when the man paused, a sort of eureka moment flitting across his features. He excused himself and skittered across the office, begging her to wait another moment.

"I have another request," he simply said in a huff as he trotted back over. He waved an envelope in one hand and thrust it to her when he was close enough. "Please. I need this to be delivered to Dewford Town—my son, Steven…"

"The Champion," Shay deadpanned.

Mister Stone cleared his throat, as though it helped to clear his thoughts as well. He straightened, puffing out his jacket and straightening it.

"Yes. My son is the Champion, but he had no help from me, no matter what the press might say. He won the Championship all on his own merit and grit. That boy is one stubborn SOB if I ever did see one." At this admission, he beamed, and there was more warmth in his voice than Shay heard previously. "I'm very proud of him."

Shay waited, and Mister Stone seemed to have finally shed the reveries going on through his head. He cleared his throat a second time, offering the envelope to her once more.

"For the same reason I can't trust the delivery of goods to Captain Stern through my usual shipping methods, I don't wish for these words to be seen by anyone else other than my son." Mister Stone gave pause, as though for effect and gravity. "Please. I need this delivered to him. It's just as important as the parts needing to be given to Captain Stern."

Shay felt her jaw wire itself shut. She stared at the envelope, hoping to will it away, but her hand reached for it. She couldn't feel her arm moving up, her fingers curling to snatch the letter as it transferred into her grip. Her head bobbed in wordless admission of acceptance. Despite her earlier bravado with confronting the man, she felt her stomach withering away at the thought of coming face-to-face with Steven. The bastard couldn't even spare a few minutes to check on her, to make sure she and any other misplaced people such as herself were adjusting well. He had dumped the entirety of the task to Norman. So, of course, Shay disliked him on principle.

Mister Stone's face broke into relief, his shoulders sagging ever so briefly when she took the envelope, none the wiser to Shay's inner turmoil.

"Thank you. You really don't realize how much this means to me. I don't…" he trailed off, hesitating. "I don't often speak to him these days, we're both so very busy with our own lives. And I can't trust e-mails or phone calls at this time, I…"

He clacked his jaws shut, and shook his head, as though to disperse any further missives of doubt.

"It's merely better if this letter is delivered discretely."

Shay was already tucking the letter away, her movements automotive, mechanical.

"You said he's in Dewford?"

"Yes. I suspect that's your next stop on your League Challenge. It's the only other gym this side of Hoenn."

The way he phrased his words was not questioning; it was very matter-of-fact. He knew where she was going and expected her to follow that path. That meant he'd be keeping his eye on her, somehow. He wouldn't just allow her to wander willy-nilly. He expected her to get something done. Just like her old Lieutenant Colonel, the Commanding Officer of her last unit before all of…this. And what the CO wanted, the CO got.

That's how it was.

It didn't mean she'd have to like it.

Fine, I'll do all this shit, but I'm gonna complain the entire time, she thought grumpily, before having to bite back a giggle and a smile. It had unwittingly brought forth witty moments from the show Archer to mind and now was not the appropriate time to be bursting into laughter over something nobody but her would get.

She wished more than anything she had brought her computer, so she could use it when she was in a town or city, in the privacy of her own room, and watch her shows. It brought a sense of relief and comfort to her, brought her closer back to home—or as close to home as she could possibly get—when she watched them.

Maybe I can have Norman send it to me, she thought wistfully, even as Mister Stone finally let her leave by opening the frosted glass door to his office and waving her amicably off. He called to his secretary to have a company car brought around downstairs and to deliver Shay to wherever she wished. When Shay stepped into the elevator after it arrived, she practically sagged against the wall, nearly dropping down to her butt to simply sit and relax.

Even when she had been sitting in the chair adjacent to Mister Stone, she had been a ball of tension, ready to spring if she had to. Being alone with men who had a lot of power did nothing to assuage her into believing she was in a kindly position, that she was even remotely worth being in the same room as them.

She wasn't sure how she'd feel about holding the mantle of Champion, but she'd have to deal with that when the time came. Right now, though…she just wanted to make it back to the Pokémon Center, let her team out, and crawl into bed and fall asleep to the white noise of the television until Brendan came to collect her later on.

This entire meeting, in the meantime, has completely drained her of her energy and her will to "people" any further for the next several hours.


Additional Notes: Lieutenant Colonels are a step below full blown Colonels. Please don't correlate the two ranks as being the same thing. They are not. However, Lt. Colonels still have a lot of sway in the world, as officers are wont to have. My last unit, we had a Lt. Colonel in charge full time, and he was pretty chill, but when push came to shove, wasn't afraid to throw his weight to get what he needed for Headquarters. Our Colonel, on the other hand, came in with the rest of the reservists and took charge in those moments. He was also a pretty chill guy, very knowledgeable, very boisterous and people friendly and worked well with joint training or glad-handing with other branches of service—whether they were our own country's or from others. I had a pretty decently good time working there, and at times, I do miss it.

Then I remember all the bullshit I had to deal with, and my body just couldn't keep up. I had my second hip surgery just months before I got out. I miss the camaraderie, but not the dumb shit. Good thing I want to deal with that shit in the civilian world as either a movie or TV show animator or as a game dev! Yippee!

Lastly, I have to say this: if you haven't seen Netflix's Love Death + Robots yet, please do! A slight warning ahead of time: it is NOT SAFE FOR WORK! It's got all kinds of things not appropriate for the workplace, such as FEMALE-PRESENTING NIPPLES and RED NECK PENIS as well as GORE GALORE. The various animations, however, are absolutely jaw-droppingly gorgeous in a majority of the episodes. Sorry, I just had to plug for the show, I can't get over the beauty of some of them, as well as the amazing narratives they managed to spin in such short amounts of time. Please, give it a try!