Rebecca stripped down and turned on the shower, and then yanked her hand back as icy water rushed out of the showerhead.
"This damn apartment…"
She stared into the mirror as she waited for the water to heat up. Had those bags under her eyes always been there? Three years on and off the street had taken their toll. She had survived, she had always survived. And she always would. Life was better now. But those bags carried more than their fair share.
When she finally stepped under the showerhead, the mirror was beginning to fog. Water rolled down her body, intricate kaleidoscope patterns swirling over the tattoos up and down her legs and her arms and her chest.
"You look exhausted. Go get something to eat," Roy had said. "Take a break."
"Dummy," Rebecca muttered.
As if Roy wasn't just as exhausted, if not more so. He should have been in the shower there with her. But instead, he was hanging back at Club Arbok trying to wrangle accountants and employees and... spreadsheets. It was late, past midnight, and it had already been a long day of conquest, then of logistics, and then finally of business almost as usual.
People hadn't been scared off by the events of the afternoon. On the contrary; the news that Team Rocket had been kicked out of one of their few footholds in Saffron City was widely welcomed. A police officer in uniform had bumped Rebecca's fist as she turned the corner onto 9th Ave on her way home just minutes ago.
No, the old Boss Man hadn't been any more popular than the rest of Team Rocket. It had been rocky for a few hours, but it looked like she and Roy would be able to keep a full ten current employees on the Club's payroll. Some of them were former Team Rocket grunts, some of them were just looking for a paycheck. But they all wanted to go where the energy was.
She shut the water and toweled off, and she dressed quickly. She slapped together two sandwiches with the last of the cold cuts in the refrigerator and wrapped them in foil – if he wouldn't take a break, he could at least eat some dinner.
She lingered one moment longer; even though the apartment was dirty, even though it was cramped, even though it was too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter, it was quiet. Being the center of attention, being out in front of so many people, being so exposed, it was hard for her. She took a deep breath.
And then Rebecca laced up her boots and stepped out into the warm night, her hair still wet.
Even after dark, Saffron City wasn't quiet. In fact, the city pounded with more energy than when she had left the Club an hour ago. It was probably still too early to tell, but she wondered if the city's collective subconscious wasn't aware of what was about to happen?
Club Arbok was also bustling – a line had actually formed out the door for the first time in weeks, and she had to push her way in. The same bouncer from earlier in the day stepped aside to let her pass by, and Rebecca couldn't help but notice his busted lip and the blood on his grey collar.
Two sandwiches in hand, Rebecca stepped inside the bar… and she found herself at the back of a loudly cheering crowd.
"What the hell is this all about?" she said to the first person she bumped into.
"Roy Rhodes is about to fight! Look!" The man pointed, and Rebecca stood on her tiptoes to see.
Sure enough, Roy stood in the center of the ring. He had taken off his shirt, and spotlights shined off the bare skin of his muscular back. A Pokémon stood next to him, a brown, insect-like Pokémon with two gigantic pincers on its head…
"He's actually doing it," she said, softly.
Rebecca pushed her way forward to the nearest man she recognized – he was wearing what had once been a Team Rocket uniform, but a zip-up hoodie now covered the red "R" on his chest.
"Who's that guy Roy is fighting?" she said.
"You've never seen him before? That's Marcus MacAlpine," said the man. "He was a big deal over on the Mt. Moon job. Rumor has it that the Rocket brass really likes him. He's supposed to be high up in line for a promotion."
The man shrugged.
"I don't know why they're fighting, though. I'm not sure if Marcus is still with Team Rocket, or if he's trying to join up with us."
"Us, huh?" said Rebecca.
It sounded a little funny, coming from this man who was almost a complete stranger. When she thought of "us," she thought of her and Roy and nobody else.
But she didn't have time to ruminate on it – Marcus MacAlpine sent out his first Pokémon, a mighty Poliwrath. It flexed, it smashed its fists together, and then the Poliwrath and the Pinsir rushed forward and met in the center of the ring.
The Pinsir lowered its powerful horns and tried to grapple with the Poliwrath, but the Poliwrath's footwork gave Rebecca the impression that it was no stranger to grappling.
Who was this man? She squinted to look at Marcus, but she didn't recognize him. He wasn't as tall as Roy, but he was muscular – his solid build was clear even through his long tan jacket.
And then she found herself gazing at Roy. He was saying something – he was too far out of earshot, and she couldn't read his lips, but he was talking, and talking. Was he talking to his Pinsir, or to Marcus, or to both of them? The way he stood alone there in the center of the ring, facing off, with so many people watching him...
The Pinsir managed to get its vise-like horns around the Poliwrath even as the Tadpole Pokémon rained down blows, and Roy's Pinsir flipped the Poliwrath backwards overhead in a picture-perfect suplex.
The Poliwrath hit the ground hard… and Rebecca winced as it wrenched free of the Pinsir's thorny mandibles.
She shook her head. Roy couldn't win. His Pinsir was a formidable Pokémon, but it relied on brute physical strength above all else. If the Poliwrath could evenly match the Pinsir in raw power, then no submission hold or Vise-Grip attack would be enough.
Roy wasn't stupid, and by no means was he a novice. If he was shaken, he didn't show it. He just kept right on talking, either to his Pinsir or to his opponent… what were the rules for their battle? Maybe one of his other Pokémon could pick up the slack?
But then the Poliwrath connected with a vicious punch, and Roy's Pinsir skidded right to its Trainer's feet. Roy didn't miss a beat; he helped his Pokémon to its feet and clapped it on its carapace, and the two Pokémon clashed again.
Again, the Pinsir led with its thorny horns, and the Poliwrath charged into the strike with blinding speed, like it was trying to climb a waterfall going the opposite way. Roy's Pinsir hit the floor hard once again, but it twisted and managed to wrench the Poliwrath down with it.
The two bruising Pokémon wrestled there on the concrete ground, each battling desperately to gain the upper hand… but the Pinsir was clearly the more desperate of the two.
At least… it seemed clear to Rebecca. Roy did not look at all concerned; his face was the very picture of concentration.
He ran a hand through his long hair, and Rebecca noticed the way his shoulder muscles rippled as he did so, and then Roy turned and looked right at her and smiled, just for a second.
She cheered… but then she glanced at Marcus. The burly man said something; she could not tell what. But the Poliwrath heard him, and it hesitated for a split second. Rebecca wasn't sure if she'd imagined it… but then the Pinsir got the Poliwrath in its mandibles and clamped down. The Poliwrath fought against the grip, and it didn't seem to Rebecca be in any real distress… but the crowd grew louder, cacophonous, as they thought they smelled blood. Marcus threw his hat into the ring a second later, signaling a stop to the fight.
Roy gave a command and ordered the Pinsir to stand down, and it let the Poliwrath go…
The crowd cheered, and Rebecca did too… but she was certain she had seen that Poliwrath pull a punch. Had Marcus ordered his Pokemon to throw the fight?
The first thing Roy did was walk over to the Poliwrath, and he held out a hand. The Poliwrath bumped Roy's fist, much to the crowd's glee, and then Roy turned to care for his own Pinsir.
His touch can be tender when he wants it to be, Rebecca reflected, as Roy accepted a first-aid kit from a bystander and proceeded to gently rub some kind of salve on his Pokémon's carapace.
And then Roy and Marcus exchanged a few words, and they clasped hands, and Roy raised the muscular man's fist in the air. The crowd cheered at the display of sportsmanship, and the music kicked back on over the Club's giant speakers.
Another second and Roy was left alone in the ring. All eyes locked on him as he surveyed his new kingdom. Rebecca admired his abs, chiseled from concrete. She admired the bad tattoos on his chest, the stick-and-pokes, each one a story and a memory, and many that she shared.
And she admired the way he bared himself to the crowd. There was no apprehension in Roy's face as all those eyes burned into him, no tension in his body language.
And then the spotlight cut, and the moment passed.
She remembered she still had two ham sandwiches in her hands.
Half an hour later, Roy and Rebecca sat at the bar, eating sandwiches and drinking beers.
"That Marcus guy looks like a pretty good Trainer," said Rebecca.
"Oh, good. You thought so too? You're a better judge of that kind of thing than I am."
Rebecca nodded.
"Definitely. That Poliwrath was…"
She trailed off, and Roy smiled as if he took her meaning. But he didn't address it.
"You should meet him," said Roy. "He's going to join up with us."
"With us?"
"Yeah, with Team Lambeth. We need some strong allies if we're going to take down Team Rocket, right?"
Rebecca blinked when she heard her own name. Team Lambeth. Roy was naming the new upstart team after her?
"Um. Yeah… I guess so."
"I'm not just going to get you a house, Becca. I'm going to tie a bow around the whole world and give it to you. Just wait."
Roy spoke very seriously, and her breath caught in her throat as he looked into her eyes.
And then an accountant came over and tapped Roy on the shoulder, and with some visible irritation he allowed his attention to be divided.
After a minute, Rebecca stood up and walked over to the table where Marcus sat.
The burly man looked up at her – his skin was darker, as if he was from southern Kanto or one of the islands, and he held a book in one hand and a beer in another. A musclehead Trainer reading a book in a dirty bar on a Saturday night? Team Rocket and its orbiting organizations had a way of attracting all kinds of misfits, Rebecca supposed, herself included.
"That was a great fight," said Rebecca, and Marcus grinned wide.
"Well thank you kindly. You're our team's namesake, aren't you? Rhodes said the tattoos would give you away."
Rebecca scratched her head, sheepish.
"Yeah… well, the team name is news to me. Roy went rogue on that one."
"Uh huh… well, he's a good leader, as far as I can tell," said Marcus.
"Somebody mentioned you were on the upswing in Team Rocket," said Rebecca. "What made you defect?"
Marcus shrugged, the grin fading from his face.
"Team Rocket is a bunch of losers. I'm sick of losing."
"Right. And… tonight?" she said, after a moment's hesitation.
"I lost."
"Did you really?" said Rebecca, quietly.
And Marcus smiled again, just barely.
"Roy's a good leader. I can tell. And he cares about Pokémon. And our whole team was watching. I lost."
Rebecca frowned.
"But…"
"I told you I'm sick of losing. So I'm joining the winning side. Get it?"
"Yeah, I get it."
And she did. She shook Marcus's hand and let him get back to his book.
Team Lambeth. It was… surreal. But Marcus was right. Roy was creating the winning side, with his own hammer and chisel and force of personality.
A/N
Many thanks to everybody reading this far. I hope you've enjoyed it...
Brief introduction: I'm Knight. As you may have noticed, this is a brand new account. I'll be updating this story regularly, weekly or bi-weekly at the very least, and there may be other stories as well. Please leave a review if you're feeling helpful, or send me a message if you're feeling friendly.
And please look forward to more King of Kanto...