Author's Note: Cheaply done reverse harems would be a delight to rewrite with a realistic heroine. Seriously, like, ten dudes, one chick, and the chick is totally normal looking but she's all like "What the hell...? I mean...you guys are hot and all, but I'm seriously feeling like the one whore in a tribe of dudes who've been deprived of women for a few years. Do you not have eyes? Lives? Hobbies? Because I do. I'm going home." But, alas, I don't think there'd be any interest for it over here in the west. I've never found a book that came even close to the idea. I wonder if anyone would even be interested? I'd even throw in all the cliche's like the cute animal sidekick, the bad dude, secret wanted power, yada yada...
...I've talked too much.
It is entirely encased in hard, protective armor. This Pokémon flies at close to 190 mph. It slashes foes with its wings that possess swordlike cutting edges.
19
The next few days passed in a busy blur. Who knew taking care of one invalid could be so much work?
Fortunately, I had thought ahead and got enough groceries for the next three days. Unfortunately, Steven had totally ignored the need to reapply bandages and antibiotics to the stitches on his back, so guess who got to do that as well as run to the store to get said supplies? At least I could grab boxes of bandages and ointment with my teeth so Metagross didn't have to float after me like my own meteor paparazzi. Not that I didn't get any less stares. I also managed, with more of my psychic helper, to cook three full meals a day for Steven as well as clean and hang the laundry on the ancient line outside.
"Will wonders never cease," said Steven from the doorway as he watched me use my teeth to fling his sheets over the line for Metagross to straighten and clothespin.
"If this is that amazing, I should get a job in a circus," I said to Metagross.
After Steven ate the chicken soup on the first day, he let out his poke'mon out onto the beach for their own meal. Thankfully, Aggron (Aggy) and Metagross knew how to handle that without my help, hauling out stones and bags of grub from the salt beaten shed. I watched from the shade of the back porch as Steven, sat carefully in a beach chair by Metagross and I, let them out. I only recognized the Skarmory. The other three I hadn't a clue. One of them even gave me the creeps with it's bug-eye, creepy-crawly appearance.
Thankfully, Metagross informed me that only Aggron had a nickname, so Steven's poke'mon level of creativity told me what poke'mon they were: Cradilly, Claydol, and Armaldo (the creepy bug one).
Aggy was very happy to see me, so I left the porch to sit by him while he ate, drawing the attention of the other four poke'mon which had yet to meet me. Cradilly, Claydol, and Armaldo all seemed to have the same language barrier that Aggy had, though Claydol was able to emit impressions and emotions to me to convey polite greeting and curiosity.
I wasn't so fortunate with Skarmory.
"What is this weak worm? Master can't have seven poke'mon at once, and I'm not going. He needs me. I smell fire, but hardly a whiffs worth. Why does he have such a weak thing? It's ugly."
I smothered the temptation to cough an ember in its face and gave my best foxy smile. "Wow, what a jerkweed."
"I can be as rude as I want to a bug like you." It stomped it's clawed foot over its meal, talons digging in the sand.
"Oy, Skarmory, don't you even think about it," shouted Steven from his chair.
Skarmory hesitated and stepped back.
"Putrid fox," it clacked.
"Hard-ass bird."
Skarmory hissed, raising its blade like feathers.
The rest of the poke'mon just watched, not bothering to get inbetween, probably because they knew that would be the end of it.
After they ate, Steven sent them for lamps up and down the beach at their varying speeds, including Skarmory, who was forced to the ground to do them. I joined them, still wanting to grow strong enough to stand on my own, though I made sure to give the metal bird a large berth, though it helped that Aggy kept pace with me the entire time even though I was sure he could outpace me if he wished.
Steven spent a lot of time out there with his poke'mon, talking them through mock battles with each other or idly petting and scratching them as they lounged about his chair. He even managed to convince me into a mock battle with Metagross, though it was mainly target practice as Metagross's strength so dwarfed my own it would have been all over with a flick of one of his golden claws.
Though I wasn't comfortable with all his poke'mon, I found quick friends in Metagross and Aggy and the familiar urge to run nonexistent. My aversion to poke'mon must be well dead and gone. Exposure therapy was a real thing and very effective.
Though the peace ended at lunch of the third day while I was making mental meal plans for the next shopping trip.
A knock came to Steven's front door.
Steven, who had just gotten comfortable on the couch with a pillow beneath his casted leg, hesitated. He'd just put Metagross in his ball with the others for a well deserved rest, leaving only me.
I sighed. "I'll get it." Thank Arceus he had a handle on his door rather than a twist knob. I had no clue how I'd get my paws to stick to something like that.
Course, once I got a glimpse of the man outside, I slammed the door back closed.
Steven jumped. "What was that for?"
"It's a Mimiku," I said, thinking of the scariest poke'mon I knew.
Or, as he heard it, "Ninetales."
"Ugh, why'd I even ask," he groaned and pushed himself up. "Just a minute!"
I sat myself in front of that door.
"I thought you didn't like people? I thought you were all hermitage over here? Do you really need to answer that door?"
He had to use the armrest to crawl his way up. "Move, Ninetales."
"And if I don't?"
"It's them, isn't it? You're previous trainer?"
I whined.
He sighed, running a hand down his face.
A knock came again. "Mr. Stone, I know she is in there."
"Ninetales, we can't just hide from this."
"Says you…" but, still whining, I moved my tail-heavy arse, but I still wiggled myself under the coffee table. Like heck I was going to give any indication that I wanted to be taken.
The man's shoes were just as shiny and severe as I remember him being, and what I could see of his slacks were ironed to perfection.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "I'm sure you know what I am here for."
Steven said nothing, but I imagine he nodded.
The shiny shoes came to the coffee table, right up to my nose.
"Come out." The command was not kind nor was it gentle.
I curled in tighter.
"Sir, do you have proof of ownership?" asked Steven softly.
"I'd think her behavior would be enough. She knows she's been a very, very bad poke'mon."
"Still…I'd be more comfortable…"
"Of course."
I heard a shuffle of fabric and the slacks crouched down, revealing the tails of an equally dapper coat. An ordinary, red and white poke'ball appeared below the edge.
I jerked back with a yelp.
Only for the flash to swallow it whole and the familiar metal chrome walls of my original poke'ball.
Biting back sobs, I buried myself within my many tails.
"What, did I think he wouldn't find me?" I muttered to myself.
But, somehow, I had thought something would have happened before then, something to slow him down or to change the reality that I had no rights as a poke'mon. I had asked Metagross multiple times if I had taken care of Steven enough to warrant him helping me, but he had always just prodded at Steven's brain and declared the mental wound still there. Well, his loss, now I wouldn't be able to help at all. For someone so incredibly smart, Metagross was retarded. Who I really wanted was Aggy. He'd bowl through this stupid old man and probably smash my poke'ball without asking. He was cool like that.
I walked along the sloped edges, staring into the rainbow like silver strips of the poke'ball walls. I could see my reflection in there, but blurred. A black canine with a skirt of tails behind it, with two blue smears for eyes.
"All this because I didn't like poke'mon?" I watched my breath fog and vanish on the surface.
What was all this even for?
I plopped down, keeping my nose to the wall. Up close the reflection cleared and I could make out the whiskers on my nose. I lifted my lips, watching them shiver, and eyeing the fangs beneath.
Collin, I closed my eyes. I miss you.
The light shone through my eyelids and my paws, with my head resting on them, thumped hard onto even ground.
What—
I opened my eyes to see a mass of gold and silver braced in front me, facing down my elderly trainer and pale, casted up Steven on the couch. Hums vibrated from him so hard his four, pillar like legs shook. Heated waves of unseen energy pulsated off him.
Steven look two seconds away from full panic.
"Metagross, we don't—how could you—"
Underneath one of Metagross's heavy, flat foot was my white and red poke'ball.
My trainer, rather than look mad, had a finger and thumb to his jaw and a mad gleam to his eyes.
"Gorgeous," he said. "That coloring."
"Metagross, get off her poke'ball, now!"
The vibrations curved from high to low, but not in intensity. Steven's eyebrows furrow.
"What are you…why are you so attached to her?" He turned his wide eyes to the gentlemen. "I'm sorry, sir, my Metagross is usually very obedient and isn't like this, I'm sorry for the difficulty." Steven pushed on the armrest, paling even further as he struggled to stand without my help. "Metagross—"
"No need to push yourself, Mr. Stone, I think this could be an opportunity for us both."
Steven hesitated, having only gotten far enough to lean on the coffee table, hung up on his cast like a piece of meat on a pole.
"I'm not trading Metagross for her," he said quickly, the same hardness he'd given his father returning to his eyes.
"And I wouldn't dream of suggesting it," said the gentleman. "Not permanently, anyway. She's hardly trained and that Metagross is the Champion's trademark companion through all Hoenn. But…well, I've been having some troubles with her, she ran away from the breeders, if you must know. However…she seems rather attached to you." He looked around. "Did you ask how I trained her in housekeeping? I did no such thing. But, with the state you are in, you could use her."
Steven said nothing, though his mouth grew thinner and thinner.
"I'm not giving you Metagross," he said again.
"I said no such thing."
"You're eyes say otherwise. You're not the first to want Metagross for his coat. Forgive me, but I've always found the hobby of shiny collecting disgusting."
The gentleman shrugged, folding a hand over his wrist. "To each their own. But, my hobby can be to your benefit. I suggest that we temporarily trade for breeding purposes. Once I have a Beldum I am satisfied with, you will get Metagross and…" The corner of his mouth lifted. "You can keep the Ninetales."
Steven's eyes jumped up and hardened till I could see the hot metal sun shining through water of his father.
My trainer shook his head. "This is no ploy, sir. She was capable of running from the breeder, and from his reports there isn't something all right in her head. Breeding her is going to be impossible, let alone trainer her. All I'd ask is that you sign off any offspring she should make to me, otherwise, she's yours, and only for some time with your Metagross." The smile turned dry. "And it seems you need her here."
Steven opened his mouth, rejection already visible in the air.
Metagross stomped forward. The stones rattled in their various cabinents.
Steven jumped, momentarily startled. "What?"
The vibrations had calmed to only swamp cooler capacity. The heat wavering towards him had even cooled, and with it came that familiar sense of Metagross transmitting to his trainer.
As my elder trainer watched with fascination, Steven frowned, then his face slackened.
"Trust you?" he murmured. "You…you want…you actually want to?"
Metagross, my poke'ball still grasped within one of its plate like feet, glided over to gently touch the tip of its saucer to Steven's brow.
At the same time, I heard Metagross's metallic voice in my head.
"I do this because he needs you. Heal his bond wound."
I got to my feet. "You can't be serious! How am I going to take care of him without you?"
"You're still human," Metagross gently pulled away, revealing Steven's now bright and shivering eyes.
Steven bowed his head, his messy, silver hair sliding in to hide his expression.
"Metagross don't have genders," he said. "How do you plan on breeding it?"
The gentleman's smirk widened. "I have my ways, you have my word. I'll even put a time limit in the contract, so no need to fear me tricking you just to run away with it. Does two years suffice?"
"One." Steven turned his head to the side towards his guest, though not enough to reveal his eyes to me. "Write up your contract. Have your lawyer with you. And don't think for a second I don't have experience in these things."
"I wouldn't dream of it."