Author's Notes: I honestly wasn't expecting to write more than a oneshot. Writing really is surprisingly fun! I want to see how far I can take this. Will I be able to write a developing relationship? Um, maybe...(I hope)

"So what do you think, Caitlin?"

Grimsley stretches out his limbs, as much as one can when seated, before settling on a slouch and reaching for another slice of coffee cake. "My bets are on a sordid love affair." All Caitlin gives him is a dull stare before she turns her attention back to her fruit tart, which is still uncut, ripe berries glistening. In a blink of an eye, perfect diagonal lines cleave the tart into eight equal pieces. She gently levitates a piece up to her mouth before quickly erecting a reflective field around the rest of her tart. Now her blackberries would be safe. A slight, triumphant smirk appears as she catches Grimsley trying to shake off the pain from his fingertips.

"I honestly don't care as long as she is fulfilling her duties and remaining in good health. Iris has always been so busy working to prove herself. She deserves a rest. I'm happy to see her in high spirits." With that, Caitlin continues to consume her daily treat.

"She hasn't been slacking off, that's for sure. I actually think that her battling has improved," Marshal asserts. "Like that sick Waterfall to Whirlpool combo she had her lapras do on that high jump-kicking meinshao the other day. Reminds me to keep forming different kicking strategies with my own." He munches on his sweet potatoes thoughtfully and adds, "I should ask what she does for training next time I see her."

"Yes. You should learn from Marshal, Grimsley, and ask questions rather than indulge in lewd fantasies." Shauntal menacingly points her spoon towards the offending man, who raises his hands in mock surrender in return. "Fine, fine. I'll ask. I wonder if she'll really give me an honest response. She's always been a bit stiff towards us." With a sigh, Shauntal lowers her spoon back into its bowl. "Well, we're kind of not-her-age-group, so I don't blame her. There's also the matter of the press…"

Marshal nods. "I feel for her. Three years and they're still at it. She's been coping well, at least from what I can see. Though I always remember how they caused that Kanto kid to run away to Mount Silver. Good for training, bad for the soul."

"Tch!" Berries sputter out juice as custard bubbles. "How unpleasant. They should really mind their own business." Taking a few deep breaths, Caitlin looks down sadly at the messy tart. "My apologies," she whispers.

Grimsley offers her a napkin. "No need to say sorry Caitlin, everyone here knows how much of a pain they can be." The others murmur in agreement, and a strange silence follows. Shauntal stirs her oatmeal absentmindedly. Caitlin and Grimsley fixate on their sweets. Marshal moves on to his steak.

…

…

No one wants to be the first one to speak, but awkward silences can only last for so long.

"Ugh! We totally dropped the ball here, didn't we!?" Shauntal lets herself slump over, staring an abyss into her breakfast, spoon now lost to the oatmeal. With their thoughts now voiced aloud, they can't help but sink as well.

"...ngh."

"Yeah…"

"Damn."

Hopefully, there would still be time to apologize.

/

What exactly had she done to deserve this? The entire Elite Four, at her door. She tries to find a reason, any reason, but nothing comes to mind. Iris honestly isn't sure how to feel. Scared? Annoyed? It's not that she has a bad relationship with them; she doesn't even know if she has a good relationship with them. The only interaction they have is because of their League duties, short and to-the-point. Cautiously, Iris opens the door.

Immediately something large and soft is thrust into her arms. She stumbles back a bit, which they take as their cue to enter. Looking down she sees...pillows? Thoroughly confused, Iris just stands in place, gawking at the four. At last, Marshal speaks up.

"We're here to say sorry for being horrible coworkers. We all know the crap that comes with fame; yet, we did nothing. Assumed that you should, and would, be able to handle it just 'cause we had to do the same. It was an awful thing to do."

Laughing at himself, Grimsley shakes his head. "Yeah. It finally hit us this morning, seeing your chipper mood. That people should be happy, and not running around stressed-out all the time about having to be perfect. Missing something so obvious! Unbelievable, right?"

Iris wants to be thankful that, like Ingo and Emmet, there are others that understand, but it's happening so fast. All that stumbles out is "Um...uh...b-but that doesn't explain the pillows?"

"Apology gift." The weight of the pillows disappears. Iris follows their trail through the air to her couch. "I wasn't sure about your likes or dislikes, so I got you these. I can personally attest to their comfiness," Caitlin continues. Not to be left out, Shauntal jumps in. "We didn't just come here for that! We also wanted to let you know that you can come to us for help from now on if things get overwhelming." Iris can't help but shrink back under her intensely expectant gaze.

"Give her some time to process Shauntal. Don't take the fact that you almost drowned yourself in oatmeal out on her," Grimsley teases. Face flushing crimson, Shauntal squawks in indignation.

"Ppffft!" With that, laughter bubbles up and over. Whole-hearted and strong till even tears are coming out. What exactly had she done to deserve this? Ingo. This newfound acceptance. It was nothing short of miraculous! She doesn't want it to slip away. She must grasp it. Hold it tight. Tears still running down her face, Iris vows to cherish these miracles.

/

Collapsing onto one's bed in fresh pajamas is one of life's great pleasures. Ah, but she couldn't sleep just yet. Rolling onto her stomach and propping up her upper body with one of her new pillows, Iris grabs her Xtransciever from the bedside table. The corners of her mouth rise up into an excited grin as she presses the name of her requested contact.

Dialing….

"Good evening, Iris." Punctual as usual, picking up within the first or second ring. Tonight, Ingo is wearing his standard black nightwear as well as a slight blush. The fact that he was still bashful about the occasional night time call was sincerely adorable. She beams back at him.

"Ingo, something amazing happened today!"

"Oh? Do tell." He rearranges himself into a comfortable sitting position, ready for a story of any length. And so, Iris regales him with the slightly awkward, heartwarming visit she received from the Elite Four.

… … ...

"That's wonderful Iris. I'm happy for you." Iris can feel the warmth of Ingo's smile through the screen. Now it's her turn to blush. It is such a simple phrase, but she can tell that he really means it. To truly feel joy due to another's good fortune and to be able to say it so freely...For Iris who was still getting used to being outwardly honest with her feelings and living as herself despite the judgement of others, such a thing was pure. Pure emotion letting itself be known. There was no careful crafting, or phrasing in order to incite a particular response. No fear of rejection or disdain. It was just what it was, and something about that was indescribably beautiful.

"T-thank you." It comes out as a squeak. Embarrassed, she quickly buries her face into her pillow. Thankfully the surface of the pillow is still cool, combating the heat on her face. She hears Ingo's amused chuckle, then remembers something.

"Ah! That's right! The pillows!" Deftly rolling off her bed, Iris retrieves the second pillow that Caitlin gave her. "I was wondering if you wanted one. They're long pillows, so I really only need one."

Ingo pauses, taking in the sudden question. "I have heard that she's the 'Queen of Comfiness,' so using a pillow that she deems worthy would be worthwhile." He seems thoughtful. Perhaps thinking about the specs of the pillow.

"So that's a 'yes'?"

"Correct."

Perfect.

"Good! It will be delivered by yours truly, straight to your door." She declares this with a triumphant grin, fingertips splayed out on her own chest for dramatic effect. Looking directly at the Xtransceiver, she holds her pose and awaits his reaction. But rather than turning tomato-red as she expected, he looks at her coolly and raises an eyebrow.

"Oho~? Were you planning this from the beginning of this call?"

She wouldn't let that deter her. "Yup. You've got to see plenty of my apartment through the Xtransceiver, and you know where I live, at least generally. I'm lucky to see a bit of your bedroom rather than the background of the Battle Subway. Also..." Iris hugs the pillow closely. "I think it would be perfect for a date."

Ingo laughs, then smiles. "Well then. Would you accept a romantic dinner in exchange for one comfy pillow?"

"That sounds fair. Just text me the date and time. I'll work around your schedule." Iris remembers being shocked that Ingo only got Sundays off considering his heavy work schedule. It made hers seem lenient by comparison.

She had to work every day of the week, technically. Something about eliminating bias towards trainers with restrictive schedules. The League really only had a huge influx of challengers during its on-season, January through May. Outside that, it was pretty variable; thus, her required physical attendance at the League (and that of the Elite Four) was on more of an on-call basis. Once a trainer reached the checkpoint three-fourths of the way through Victory Road, Iris would be told to report to her battle chamber within a certain amount of time. In addition, the Unova League was closed for holidays, and each member was entitled a generous leave of absence per year.

The Battle Subway, having no badge requirements, received far more challengers on the average day. On top of that, the Gear Station itself was open 24/7, and as a Subway Boss, Ingo had responsibilities regarding that as well. Really, the main reason he had Sundays off (other than the obvious human need for restoration) was the fact that the Battle Subway didn't operate on that day.

"I appreciate that." He turns apologetic. "I hope you don't mind me turning in early for tonight; I want to make the perfect combination of recipes so that I can get you the date and time as soon as possible."

Iris smiles reassuringly. "That's fine, Ingo. Take all the time you need." Loosening her grip on the pillow, she sits it upright next to her and puts her arm around it like one would do to a friend. She points at it light-heartedly. "This pillow's not going anywhere~" They both giggle a little at that one.

"Really though, I mean it. No need to rush." She flashes one last smile, which he reciprocates. "Good night Ingo."

"Good night Iris."