A/N: If you would like to be entered into the drawing for a one-shot commission, then following and favoriting this story is the only requirement. After that, PM me the pairing of your choice and we can discuss things from there. There tends to be only 3-5 participants per drawing, so the chance to win is pretty decent. Anyways, enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Eight: Warming Up

Aaron was preparing for bed, wishing that there were a state fair or similar distraction to rescue him from a sixteen-hour shift tomorrow. The plush he'd won had found a new home in the corner of the bedroom he no longer slept in – something that Darian had been sure to voice his confusion over. Aaron had simply told him to shut up.

He finished his dinner, throwing the plastic tray into the trash before retreating the bathroom. The trainer leaned over the counter, looking into the mirror, and dreaded tomorrow. A vibration in his phone – probably some meaningless news alert – made him fish it from his sweatpants' pocket. As he suspected. Apparently, a coup had occurred in Harawayu, an African region that he wouldn't be able to locate on a map if he tried. He didn't even click the article; why were the political events of some country across the world relevant to him? What could anyone in Unova possibly do about it?

When he went into the living room again, he had noticed that Aster had nodded off in a very unflattering position, sprawled out in front of the gas fireplace on his back. Usually, he coiled up before passing out, but it seemed like he hadn't had the time for that tonight. Aaron grabbed the empty plate the serperior had left and brought it to the sink.

Nora was sitting at the table, writing something down on a sheet of notebook paper – taking Aaron by surprise. He wasn't aware that she knew how to write. "What're you doing there?" he asked.

"Making a list," she muttered, setting the pen down. "And I just finished…"

"Really?" he asked as he rinsed the plate. "What for?"

"Some things for you to get while at the store. This should be everything."

"Oh? Well, I appreciate it." Though it wasn't particularly helpful; he had more or less memorized everything that needed to be purchased. But nevertheless, he smiled and didn't dare to mention this fact. The typhlosion joined him in the kitchen and handed him the list, timidly folding her arms. One of her ears twitched slightly as he scanned over the paper. "Uhh… what is all this?" he asked. She had requested several food items. Not microwaveable or simple-to-prepare meals, but raw meats, vegetables, rice, and spices.

"I think… I mean, if it's alright with you… that it might be better for everyone to eat a little better…"

"We're healthy," he said, almost insulted by any implication otherwise. He was in great physical shape – and so was his team. Maybe that was more so a factor of their activity rather than their diet, but they ate okay enough…

"I-I just don't think it's good for you all to be surviving off of microwaveable meals…" She looked down, seemingly regretting bringing the matter up.

"Nora, I dunno if I can afford all this."

"I worked the math out," she said. "It wouldn't cost any more than what you pay every week, eating out as much as you all do. And plus, the spices can be used for a while. You don't always have to buy those." He shook his head.

"Even then, I have no clue what to do with all this. I mean… raw chicken? Maybe you guys can eat that, but that can make me really sick if I mess that up. Outside of a microwave, heat application isn't really my thing." His eyes scanned over the list once again. "Look, I'm sorry, but I have no idea how to cook."

"But I do."

"What?"

"Know how to cook, that is – I learned from one of Sofia's private chefs. He was patient and didn't mind having the extra help."

"But why?" Aaron asked.

"Because I want to contribute something around here. And it's pretty fun, actually," Nora replied. "At least… when everything works out." He thought it over for a second, then shook his head. Aaron didn't want her getting the wrong idea.

"Look, I appreciate the offer, but I don't want you thinking for one second that you owe us anything. I already told you at the fair – you're our friend, not our burden." The typhlosion sighed.

"I know what you said… but I'm not going to sit around and not contribute. This is something I know how to do – so let me. Uhh… please," she said, her voice becoming quieter. The typhlosion's eyes looked at the back of the paper, almost nervous about the exchange, and Aaron relented.

"Well… do I need to get any pots or pans, or…?" Her ears perked up.

"No, I already checked. You've got enough stuff here." She almost sounded relieved. He smiled at her before replying.

"Alright then. I guess we'll give this a shot. And who knows? Maybe you can show me, too."

"O-okay. I'd like that."

Alexander released Reshiram and Zekrom from their balls soon after arriving in the world of darkness. The two dragons materialized in front of him as Solgaleo slipped back into Ultra Space. They nodded upon seeing him.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to that," he said.

"Your kind was not meant to jump between dimensions," Reshiram replied. "Not in ideal circumstances."

"You aren't kidding." The three of them walked to the tower's edge, looking over the darkened city. Very few lights were on as the general populace conserved as much energy as possible. It was against their regulations to do anything else. Fortunately, mass production of the exosuits was nearing its completion, and after that, all that there was left to do was to wait for the right moment. The dragons stood on either side of him and took in the sight as well. "It will be difficult for them to adjust to their new lives on Earth when this is all they have ever known…"

"But if they wish to survive, then it must happen," Zekrom stated. His voice was deeper than his white counterpart.

"I've been meaning to ask you two something," Alex began. "You two, historically, have often stood against one another. Is it strange now for you to be on the same side?"

"It is more complicated a matter than taking sides," Reshiram answered. His voice was more soothing. "Neither of us have ever harvested any malice towards the other for supporting opposing factions as you might put it. But our actions are to restore balance, and we select individuals based on our own personal preferences to do so."

"I see. So when you two first split – back when you were a single being…"

"When the three of us split," Zekrom corrected.

"That… I had forgotten of Kyurem."

"A grave mistake, as his power exceeds our own. Individually."

"If he sides against us, he will be outmatched, right?" Alexander asked. "We have dozens of legendaries on our side. Could he really stand against all of them if he attacked?"

"He will not," Reshiram assured. "And if he did happen to intervene directly, he would be outnumbered as you have said."

"But that's if he chooses the other side in this conflict," Alex said.

"If Kyurem gets involved, the odds are that he will," Zekrom replied.

"But why? If he is simply the unity between truth and ideals – the middle ground that seeks to balance the scales – then why would he go against both of those?" Reshiram slowly lowered himself into a resting position beside Alex.

"You have said it yourself – he seeks to restore balance. Both of us are on one side."

"It doesn't… make any sense. Why wouldn't he join you two? And for that matter, make a single, unified being once more?"

"Because the three of us have become too different to be one entity again," Zekrom answered. "We were one, but the world around us divided, and we followed with it. Those who favored ideological potency were those that my portion of the original dragon favored. Reshiram, on the other hand, chose ideological purity."

"That's… a good way to put it. Never thought of it that way, but that makes more sense than a clash between truth and ideals… one between ideological purity and potency…"

"When we split, we each became a different being – a different consciousness. Now there is no going back," Reshiram said. "But that is alright. Though change can be a bad thing, sometimes it works out for the best." The white dragon looked at the man he had chosen to join forces with, seeing the puzzled look on his face. "You still have questions."

"Just one. Why did you both join me?" Alex asked. "When I came to Dragonspiral… I didn't know if I was good enough for one of you, let alone both." Zekrom joined the other two on the ground but kept his gaze towards the black city. Dark windows reflected starlight back at them though it was only midday.

"For the same reason we split in the first place. We could not choose."

"You… couldn't choose?" Alex questioned.

"Reshiram was first drawn to your presence, but I could not ignore the passion behind your ideals and was similarly enticed. It was just as surprising for us to both end up in that tower as it was for you. It was the first time we have been united in over two-and-a-half millennia. It has been… nice."

"I'm glad that it is this way," Alexander replied. "And once we're done… it won't ever go back." He would have been content to wait there for hours, or maybe even doze off in the company of his friends – Arceus only knew he could use the rest with everything that had been going on recently.

But the computer unit on his wrist beeped to life, signaling a message had been received. It was simple and to-the-point.

The troops have rallied around Gutierrez and are ready to go. Dispatch is in an hour.

"Well, Soliera sure doesn't waste time," he said. Rest would have to wait until later. Right now, there was work to be done.

The most cooking that Aaron had done over the years consisted of making sandwiches and occasionally throwing a frozen pizza into the oven. His surprise, when arriving at the apartment on Sunday night and seeing everyone putting plates into place on the table, was well-deserved. "What in the world is all this?" he asked as Marcus set down a bowl of yellow rice. Everything smelled great.

"Chicken parmesan, rice and salad," Nora said, washing then drying her hands before tossing the cloth onto the counter. Aaron pried his gaze away from the scene in front of him and removed his shoes and uniform, being left in his t-shirt and jeans, and walked to the fridge.

"Crap, I see I'm out of my retail coping mechanism…"

"What?" the typhlosion asked.

"Beer," Aster said.

"Oh… well, I made tea instead…" That must have been what the herbal smell was within the air.

"Hot or cold?"

"Cold. It's in the fridge now. Probably looked past it…"

"You and Nathan would get along just fine," he joked.

The mountains of the Veranas region were among the most beautiful Alexander had ever seen. Only around a kilometer in height, they managed to reach the clouds yet kept their greenery. The base, however, was less a sight to behold and more so one that invoked pity. Slums crowded the uneven terrain, cramped together with many buildings being several stories high. Some of them looked to have been pieced together with debris.

The building he stood in must have been an insult – a testament to how much their government cared about them. Clean stonework and neatly trimmed foliage surrounded the premises, and on the inside, ornate furniture that had been deemed essential decorated each room. Though many of the surrounding skyscrapers were far taller, this pristine building sat in nearly the center of the capital district and boasted of the highest level of security in the country.

Or at least, it had.

With the right equation and enough practice, both Solgaleo and Lunala could create portals to incredible precision – enough to drop troops off into a particular room. Omega infiltrated the complex from within, and after beating most of the guards unconscious and dragging the bodies back, all there was to do now was wait. Either the president would show up to the bedroom on his own accord, or Alex would get tired of waiting and would have him brought here forcibly.

He scanned over the office desk. Various folders and papers were stacked neatly in one corner, most of which he could only pick out bits and pieces of the wording. Several of the drawers were empty; one had more papers, another held various miscellaneous items. But the one on the top left held a snub-nose revolver. Alexander opened the cylinder and noticed that two of the five bullets had already been fired. He ejected them all, dumping them into the drawer, placed the gun back in its original spot, and closed it once again.

It wasn't long before footsteps could be heard from the hallway. Alex stood in the corner of the room, arms folded, and waited. So far, everything had gone according to plan – Zadoc would soon arrive with the troops. It would inevitably look like one of the many coups that had become common in regions like this.

Just like in Harawayu.

The door opened, and the president stepped in. He removed his jacket, then kicked his shoes into the corner before hanging his coat on the rack. Once his fingers had gone about removing his tie, Alexander made his presence known.

"Raul Murillo… I thought you'd be a little taller."

"Guardias! Guardias!" the dictator yelled.

"They aren't coming," Alexander replied. "Not from where they're at right about now." He circled the room, causing the man in front of him to back away, and quietly shut the door. "Hope you don't mind if I speak English. My Spanish is a bit choppy." Murillo ripped open the drawer and pointed the revolver towards Alex. Omega's leader rolled his eyes. The click sounded, then again. "Yeah, I couldn't have you shooting yourself. Not when you have information that I need."

"Who are you?" the president asked. "What do you want?"

"A little bird happened to tell me you were helping him run drugs up north." Alex motioned for Murillo to take a seat at the desk, and when the dictator hesitated, he took a few steps towards him. Raul took his seat. His hand slightly twitched on the armrest. "You refuse to let anything or anyone come in or out. But when you personally had the chance to profit… well, it's funny how the rules change." He dragged his hand along the desk, scratching the wood with the metal gloves, then grabbed the revolver. "Won't let people arm and protect themselves, but you sure surround yourself with weaponry." Tossing it to the side, he motioned out the window. "The country lives in fear, starvation, and squalor, but here you have every single inconvenience removed…"

For a moment, Alex remained silent as if contemplating his next move. Outside, gunfire could be heard as the few remaining guards were subdued – it had happened a few minutes earlier than expected, but over the last several months, he had learned that the Megalopolans were nothing if not efficient. "I will say, finding a replacement here was difficult. Someone charismatic that the people knew and would respect, but also knew that he wasn't the center of the universe." Alexander grabbed Murillo and shoved him face first into the desk, binding his hands before getting him on his feet. "I'm sure Gutierrez will do a fine job."

"Victor! That treacherous snake!" Murillo spat. "I should have killed him years ago!"

"Fortunately for your people, you didn't," Alex said, escorting him to the front of the building. On the second story towards the corner was a small room that was typically used for storage. The portal still stood with Solgaleo ready to close it at a moment's notice. But Alex walked past it with the captive. As the combatants hurried into the room and disappeared through the portal, Alex nodded out the window. "Take a good look at Veranas. It's the last you'll ever see of it."

True to his word, Aaron showed an interest in cooking with her – though he mostly watched and listened. That was, on the nights where he wasn't tired enough to just crash on the sofa. She moved with a certain grace that he wouldn't have expected from a member of her species, and where his inexperience wanted to slowly measure out the ingredients she told him to use, the typhlosion simply tossed things together with expertise that didn't need calculation. Everything she made turned out well.

She began growing more comfortable with the four of them. Nora was still reserved for the most part, but when Aaron came home, she tended to greet him alongside the audino, albeit far more timidly. Still, he had witnessed great improvement in terms of her interactions with the team. One day he had come home to see her chatting with Marcus; she had made the mistake of inquiring about his abilities – one that she would likely never make again given how excitable the lucario had become about the topic.

What Aaron had serious reservations about was the upcoming holiday. While his family did not tend to have many extended members over for Thanksgiving – often times it was two sets of grandparents and his father's brother – he knew how loud and intrusive they could get. That was the last thing Nora needed as she gradually settled in. But the typhlosion assured him that it wouldn't be an issue and that she would keep to herself if needed.

The guys shouted as Nimbasa intercepted a pass from Opelucid's quarterback, yelling and cheering the player on as though their voices made any difference. He was eventually downed at the twenty-yard line, having nearly scored on his own accord, and as halftime drew close, they were forced to go for a field goal. That score was now twenty to fourteen in favor of Nimbasa.

It was more or less the same scene every year: the males of Aaron's family watching the game while the women readied dinner. Both Marcus and a machoke that lived with his uncle Scott were among the group. While Aaron felt guilty about it and had volunteered to help, his mother turned the offer down, saying he would only get in the way. Nora, on the other hand, was welcome.

The halftime show had its usual political message – one that got the family to mute the television – and Aaron retreated to his room for a bit. Everything was still in place. Various sports trophies were positioned on the dresser, pictures of teams dotted the wall, and an outdated desktop that his father had managed to procure from work was on the table. The furniture had all been dusted and there were fresh linens on the bed. Aaron jumped onto it and pulled his phone out, finding the air forced from his lungs once Krista decided to flop onto his stomach.

It didn't take long for them to reach Nathan. He was on his couch, presumably also watching the game, with Adira on one side and the espeon on the other. She looked just as disinterested as Aster had been. "That flag was ridiculous," Nathan started. "That ref has got to be blind. Pass interference? Clemmens didn't even touch the guy…"

"Wait now – whose side are you on?" Aaron asked.

"The side that's about to make a comeback in the second half."

"But you went to Nimbasa…"

"And I root for Opelucid," Nathan said, matter-of-factly. "Attending Nimbasa for two years didn't change that, though they are a close second."

"Traitor."

"Alright, whatever. How've things been going with Nora and the family? Hopefully she's not too anxious about things." Adira nodded.

"Yeah, about that – she's commandeering the kitchen right now. Blows my mind that I'd find the one typhlosion in the world that knows how to cook…"

"And she definitely can," Krista said.

"It's a really good skill to have. Speaking of which – close the oven, Aiden. The chicken still has another hour." Nathan returned his focus to his friend. They spoke for the majority of the halftime show, but once the third quarter drew close, the two were ready to end the call.

"I'll take the phone if you don't mind," Naomi said.

"What? You don't want to see Opelucid come back and embarrass Nimbasa?" her trainer asked.

"Not particularly, no. I think I would rather speak with Aster, provided he is not busy."

"No – not at all!" the serperior said, using his vine to take the phone from Aaron, who silently made a vulgar motion towards his pokémon. Aster ignored him.

"Come on, Krista," Aaron said, before whispering to her. "Let's leave this sorry thing to himself." She agreed, flicking Aster on the tail before they left, closing the door behind them.

It had been a close game; as Nathan had predicted, Opelucid had picked up momentum in the second half. But it had not been enough to win it, and with a missed field goal at nearly sixty yards, any chance of going into overtime was gone.

The various dishes were spread around the countertop rather than the table, giving everyone more room to eat. Or rather, those who were actually seated at the table; his parents, all four grandparents, and his father's brother and sister-in-law took eight of the ten chairs. Aaron had another, and his pokémon – who ate in the living room along with the machoke – insisted that Nora take the last spot. The typhlosion had accepted, much to Aaron's surprise, though she had definitely gotten to know the women of the house. He only hoped she wasn't prodded too much during dinner.

Thanksgiving was done a little differently in Aaron's household; rather than typical meal of turkey, cornbread, and stuffing, his family cooked recipes that originated from their home regions. His father's parents were first generation immigrants, while his mother's side was a few generations further. Corned beef and cabbage contradicted heavily with the various pastas from his mother's side. But he had come to enjoy the meal, non-traditional as it may have been.

First grace was said by his grandfather. They held the adjacent person's hands, which for Aaron, was Nora and his father's mother, and as the blessing went on, he squeezed the typhlosion's paw gently. Once that was done, everyone served themselves from the various trays on the countertop, and Aaron took a sizeable chunk of meat after serving his pokémon.

"So," Aaron's mother began in an effort to start conversation, "I know what I'm thankful for this year. The extra help we got in the kitchen."

"Hey. I volunteered…" Aaron said.

"Honey, you would burn a pot of water," she replied, causing Nora to snicker.

"I've been learning… a few things, at least."

"I sure as hell know what I'm thankful for. Two communist countries got overthrown, and one of those Delta assholes got stomped the other day. People have finally had enough of this leftist bullshit." Aaron rolled his eyes; that much wasn't surprising to hear. You just couldn't resist, could you? His aunt looked away awkwardly – she'd probably told him to refrain from bringing up anything of the sort, but Scott was not one for keeping his opinions to himself.

"Look, I just wanna eat my dinner. Keep that political crap outta the house, especially today of all days," Robert stated. The trainer focused on eating, but secretly was content with the reply. It was one of the several reasons he respected his father.

"On another note, I'm thankful that Pierce got to live his dream – and that we were able to meet you, Nora." The typhlosion picked at the plate in front of her, but shyly smiled, and had she not been covered in fur, Aaron knew for sure that she would have blushed. He ate the rest of his dinner in silence, appreciating the company of both his family and the typhlosion that neither he nor his other pokémon could imagine living without.

Special thanks to FuryWrites for beta reading this chapter.