Aloha! I tried to stuff more pokemon in here, this time around...because what's a poke-fic without pokemon? Yikes.

I dislike Totodiles. There's something about that watery, daffy-duck cry they have on the anime that creeps me the f out, dude.

To reviewers: You rock. Very, very hard.


Professor Elm chuckled, giving me an appraising, hopeful look. He knew he had my attention now. And I'd freely admit, if this 'proposition' was really as good as it sounded, he had more than half of my cooperation. If this was real, of course. There was always the possibility that this was some cruel, sick joke. Or that I was dreaming. I tried discreetly pinching my arm. Nothing happened.

"There isn't much more to verify, Lucy." Elm's tone was persuasive; trying to lure me in without scaring me away from the prospect. Feeling like a very quick to bite Magicarp on the hook, I forced myself to appear nonplussed. "This is going to be a written agreement between yourself and I. Your mother has already seen the contract." Noticing my suddenly wary expression, he waved his hands dismissively. "Oh, come on now. Do you really think that I, as a responsible adult, would offer this sort of deal to a child without their parent's consent?"

"I am not a child..." I muttered sourly under my breath.

Professor Elm shook his head again. "Let's stay on topic. This is the deal, Lucy. Professor Oak (the admiration in his voice was borderline adoring) and the rest of the top-contributors of the pokemon-research society have decided to give special grants to chosen trainers. Usually, these sorts of grants would go to care packages for their journeys: potions, pokeballs, pokedexes, supplies such as those. You, however, are a special case."

At this, I cocked my head. "But why, Professor Elm?" I asked, bewildered. Not that I didn't appreciate the offer. "Why me, of all people? There are still plenty of kids in New Bark...or even in any of the other towns! Why would you even consider me? I still don't even want to become a trainer..."

"I think," Professor Elm said, giving me a sharp gaze, "It is for that exact reason that I picked you. You seem like a good kid, Lucy. You have a natural...aura about you. I think you have real potential... do you understand? No one can force you to use that potential, no one could force you into anything...you have a bit of a stubborn side, as I've already seen. But I want you to try. And if giving you this tuition is the only way to get a pokeball in your hands... then I guess it's worth the price."

I stared at the professor...and continued to stare. I had never been talked to this way, before now. Of course I knew what a genuine compliment was. It wasn't that. I think it was the amount of faith this practical stranger had in me. In me. In something I didn't even care about. And the fact that he was willing to sacrifice more than a standard amount of money to fuel my ambitions, ambitions that no one could understand but he accepted, finally earned my respect.

This was still a lot to dump on a teenager at seven in the morning, though. With a weary, helpless expel of air, I looked up at Professor Elm with firm conviction...and exhaustion. I was tired. And I hadn't even been to school yet."I'll...I'll do it." I murmured weakly, but sincere. "Gimme the contract. I still have at least six periods of 'prison' ahead of me today."

Professor Elm laughed. "Okay, okay. We'll speed this process up. I'll let you have a full read-through of the contract, and you can question any part of the document that you don't understand or agree with...on one condition."

Rubbing at my eyes again, I halfheartedly muttered, "What."

"You chose your first pokemon. Right now."

I may have agreed to train a pokemon into an evolution, but I still wasn't happy about becoming a 'trainer' in any sort of form. But what choice did I have? With this tuition, it would practically be a mortal sin to complain. My future had never been clearer.

"Fine." I mumbled, bitter. "Show me what you got."


Professor Elm was more than excited to show off his pokemon collection. "Oh, the possibilities!" He nearly sang, fluttering around the lab, completely without shame. "Your very first starter! Your companion! Your-"

"Take it easy there, bub." I said, my head in my hands. "Remember, this isn't a life-time commitment, here. I'm doing this for my tuition. Once whatever little sucker you give me evolves, you are getting it right back."

He barely seemed to hear me, and I suspected that he still believed that I would become too attached to whatever little pest he gave me to give return it. Oh, how wrong he was going to be. I could tolerate pokemon, sure. But my chances of actually liking a pokemon, in particular? One in specific, to love and nurture? The odds were one in a thousand. Maybe even two. I was not a sentimental pet-type.

"Would you like a fire type? They often have your determined spirit (and stubbornness...)!"

"No." My voice was flat.

"Perhaps a water type, then. They're very useful! And they often become quite loyal to their-"

"No."

"...You know, it isn't a standard starter pokemon, but I could offer you a rarer species...you do, after all, have a rare personality..."

My head whipped up, and I nearly threw my favorite green barrette at the professor. "Look, Elm," I said, threatening. "Why would you bother wasting a rare pokemon on someone who wouldn't even appreciate it? Give me something plain. Something very, very normal that you wouldn't miss around the lab much. Something that other trainers could catch on a route in five seconds. Like that."

"Nope." Professor Elm answered, grinning. "It's a part of the contract, actually. I get to chose your starter. And I am making sure it is unique. Often, the weaker sort of pokemon in this area level-up in no time. I want to give you something you can really bond with."

I let my head fall back into my arms again, rocking back and forth in an effort to stay calm. This was going to be hell.

Letting the professor twitter to himself for nearly twenty more minutes, I caught up on some beauty-rest. I was beyond tired. I had been shocked awake by my mother's creepy hypno, come face to face with a chicken-monster, and offered a tuition for college all before ten in the morning. I thought I deserved a little nap. Just a little rest...

When I came to, I opened my eyes to see three pokeballs lain in a row in front of me, placed with care. Professor Elm was sitting in a nearby chair, skimming through what appeared to be a literary magazine on pokemon. He hadn't noticed that I was awake yet. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I reached out toward the nearest pokeball, curious as to what was inside.

"Oh, you're up!"

Startled, I bumped into the tiny silver button, and the ball released a pokemon into my lap. I stared at the little creature in shock, wanting desperately to knock it off of me, but too afraid to move. Sitting, rather dazed, was a little blue crocodile.

"Aw, a Totodile! That would suit you very well!" Professor Elm chirped, immediately running off the pokemon's statistics. "He's a water type, level five, with an impish nature-"

The Totodile smiled at me with a terrifying set of fangs, and then sunk said teeth into my leg. Trying not to scream but feeling my rising hysteria, I looked up at Professor Elm with pure, unfiltered despise. "Get. It. Off." I hissed between clenched teeth.

With a little sigh of disappointment, Elm returned Totodile into its pokeball.

I exhaled nosily, and then suddenly screamed, "THAT hurt like a BITC-"

"Why don't we move on to the next one?" Elm said, cheery. He dumped another pokeball into my lap, and thankfully this one didn't deploy. I held it in my hands, nervous, my eyes teary from the stinging chomp into my leg. I looked at the knee of my jeans (my brand new jeans) with despair. It was punctured with a perfect circle of just lovely little teeth marks.

I briefly considered a crocodile-skin purse. I heard that they were all the rage, in other regions...

"I assure you, this next pokemon poses no threat!" Professor Elm quickly tried to encourage me. "Totodiles are normally very sweet pokemon, but they can be a bit of a handful, to the inexperienced trainer....this one will be better, I swear-"

"No more water types."

He nodded solemnly. "No more water types."

A little reserved, I released the pokemon inside...and revealed a tiny, adorable baby chick. "Cute!" I found myself say, rather relieved. No fangs in sight! The baby-chick snuggled into my leg, chirping. "Torchic! Torchic!" The little tuft of feathers on the top of it's orange head bobbed, excited, and I was momentarily distracted. It took me a few moments before I registered the 'torch' prefix at the beginning of its name.

Torch. Fire. Fire was bad. Very, very bad. "Bye-bye, birdie!" I said, completely cheerful. Torchic stared up at me in surprise as it disappeared back inside of the pokeball in a moment's notice. Satisfied, I set the ball back on the floor with a hardy smack.

Professor Elm was flabbergasted. "You...you just rejected one of the cutest starter pokemon known to man..."

I looked up at him blankly. "...And?"

Shaking his head, the professor muttered something about 'having the heart of a Froslass', grabbed up a random pokeball from the machine, and prepared himself to chuck it at me. "Wait!" I held up my hands, ready to deflect a rogue ball that would hit me on the head again. "What about this one? I haven't seen it yet. You were the one who put it in front of me in the first place..." I reached for the last remaining pokeball at my left.

Professor Elm eased, his hand clutched around one of his specimens with dull surprise. "Ah! I had almost forgotten..."

Cautiously, I slid my fingers over the hard, steel sphere, mentally readying myself for whatever that could be inside. This one wasn't nearly as warm as the torchic's had been, which was a good sign. In fact, it was pleasantly cool. I briefly wondered if it was going to reveal some sort of nasty ice-type. What if this was a sneasel? I never had the same feelings for them as my mother, who had at least three of those sneering, deceptive little demons...

I checked my watch. It was 8:55.

"Well, I'm already late for school, and it's not like I'm getting any younger, here." My voice was a bit flat, although I tried to sound even somewhat joking. "Whatever this is, it better be good."

The ball opened with a snap, and then everything went...green.