"…And then looking in the mirror again I see, in the very back corner of the room peeking out from behind the ensuite door, a fucking pair of red eyes watching the entire thing."
John choked back a laugh as he took another swig of his stout, Max's eyes going wide as he froze with his own pale beer clutched tightly in his hand.
"You… you didn't put her in her pokeball before…?" the young grunt stammered, Viv shaking her head with a shrug.
"Nah, we rented an action movie with pokemon leads for them to watch in the main room and shut the door," she explained after taking a gulp of her own glass. "One of those ones with some romance in it as well. Dude's liepard was a handsome hunk just like his owner so I was trying to do her a solid, but I guess he was more interested in binging on the poke puffs we bought them and having a nap so she left to watch something more entertaining."
"Jesus." John polished off his drink and set the empty glass down next to the other three already in front of him on the table. With the dinner rush finished an hour ago and the kitchen closed most of the bar staff had either left to go home or sat down for a drink themselves, leaving a pair of older staff to look after the few groups of drinkers that remained. "Bet that killed the mood just a bit."
"Nope, he didn't notice at the time so I didn't bother bringing it up." Another gulp. "Not that I was really in a position to do anything about it even if I cared, if you get what I mean." Grinning, Vivian watched Maxwell mutter something under his breath before he went to have another sip of his drink. He was soon going to regret his choice of timing. "About ten minutes later he did though, wasn't expecting to see his date's weavile staring back at him when he looked in that mirror. Nearly fell off the bed he was that spooked! Guess it was his first time having a pokemon sneak in to steal a peek before."
Max's cheeks bulged and a hand went to his mouth to hold back the splutter that threatened to become something more, his eyes wide and locked on Viv while his two fellows laughed at his misfortune. Lucky he managed to swallow his drink with only a few drops falling down onto his shirt, his cheeks flushed red not just from the alcohol.
"F-first t-time?" he finally managed to get out in between coughs. "You mean…?"
"Hey, she's an inquisitive 'mon alright? Good at sneaking into places too. I told her off the first two times after she scared the guys off, because apparently the tiniest threat of a pokemon audience upsets men enough to not even risk a booty call, but after that one I just gave up and made a deal with her: She doesn't go into a room with a sock on the door handle anymore, and I'll share all the juicy details with her afterwards. Win-win."
"Win-win," repeated Max with disbelief. John meanwhile raised an eye.
"You know I'm no pokemon psychology expert, but I'm pretty certain that that just ain't right. Certainly helps to explain some of the strange behaviour though." He looked to his empty glass with a measure of disappointment. "I swear, every time I get drunk with women..."
Their judgement was brushed off with a dismissive wave. "Yeah, yeah, boo-hoo. Me and Weave are gal-pals and besties, so we gossip like girlfriends do alright? Well, I mean it's pretty one-way, but still." She finished her drink with a satisfied sigh, a finger pointing at John while the glass was returned to the table. "And while you were right about stouts actually being good, I'm not nearly drunk enough yet so shut it. Speaking of…" Her chair scraped across the cordwood floor, Viv leaving her seat to point with her head towards the lone bartender. "I'm going to score us a few shots. First round on me."
A shake of the head from Max, his light beer still half-full and his cheeks rosy. "Oh, no thanks Viv. You know I don't do well with shots."
"Max, that's only your third beer, me and Johnny-boy are smashing you right now. Come on, it's a special occasion so live a little. We only have enough cash for a few each anyway."
"Vivian…"
"Maxie, pretty please, for me?" Fluttering her eyes, Viv rounded the table to lean her head in close to Max's like a hungry taipan cornering a hopping mouse. "You know how drinking gets me, and guys who can slam back a few shots are pretty hot…"
Watching Max sharply jerk his head away from Viv's whispers and eyebrow waggles, John chuckled lightly to himself before the grunt under feminine siege looked to him with pleading eyes for support.
'Oh no, I'm so sorry mate but this night is too hilarious to end already.'
"Viv you horny harlot, leave him alone. Now is not the time for harassment." The thankful look Max gave him when Viv backed off was premature, and the sharp retort already primed on her tongue died when she saw the glint of amusement in John's small eyes. Max's relief vanished just as quick when a thick envelope was pulled from John's pocket, the large man grinning at the pair while he plucked a few polymer banknotes out and held them out towards them. "That comes later. You've got to go buy us our shots first after all."
She almost snatched the money from his hand, her blue eyes widening as she double-checked it. "Holy shit John, this'll buy us a freakin' party platter!" Tearing her gaze away from the money she watched him stuff the temporary wallet back in his jeans. "Another good mission, hey?"
"Helps that I don't have to save an arm and a leg for pokemon stuff I guess," he answered with a shrug. "And I'm not exactly in the position to start saving for a house or whatever." A thought at the back of his mind pondered that he might have more of a chance of owning a house in the second attempt at life despite being a member of a criminal animal-capturing cartel if he actually saved the ill-gotten gains, but that was a problem for future John.
Present Vivian apparently had no further comments, his explanation accepted with a toothy grin and almost mad dash for the end of the bar with money in hand. While she was busy with excitedly putting the lone bartender to work, John returned his attention to Max at the younger man's sigh.
"Something wrong?"
Max took a deep swig of beer before replying, his eyes on the table with his shoulders slumped.
"You don't know how she gets when she drinks, this right now is 'subtle' behaviour."
John glanced over towards Viv who was leaning on the bar and loudly chatting to the bartender while he got to work on their shots. Even out of the usual uniform skirt and in jeans her fit figure was still noticeable, and she seemed high up on the ten-scale to him but maybe it was just his bias towards dark-haired chicks. "I gotta admit I don't see a problem mate, isn't it a good thing? I mean, I just kind of assumed that you two were fucking already."
"Wha-? No!" With a short choking cough Max quickly shook his head. "No, a thousand-times no! We're just good friends and co-workers. Nothing else."
John raised a hand in surrender. "Okay, settle petal, it's been cleared up and now I know." Really wishing he had another beer handy, John went for the next best thing and gave the other guy at the table a few seconds of peace before going for the cheap shot. "So does the same go for Weave then?"
The kicked puppy look Max gave him only caused his smile to widen into a cheeky grin.
"Not you as well," he sighed. "Look, it was really cute at first but then, like all things involving Vivian, it got weird." Another long drink, the current beer almost looking like it would be finished in under an hour which was a new record for the young grunt. "A friendly warning: You're male, and Viv's aiming to get plastered so she might even switch sights from me to you."
A scoff. "Now I just feel insulted."
"Oh, ah, yeah I didn't mean it like that. Must be the booze." Finishing his drink, Max set his glass down with another sigh. "Anyway, just be wary. Every week I swear I learn something even stranger about her and that damn weavile of hers. Especially tonight, yeesh."
"Ya, that was a story I could have gone without." He aimed another smirk at Max. "Guess they come as a package deal then. Two for the price of one."
Head dropping into his hands, Max groaned. "I fucking hate you."
"Wow, language."
"I learnt it from you, just like Viv has." Looking up through his fingers, the young man lowered his voice to a mutter. "And she is probably right in saying that I can't hold my drink, I'm a little tipsy so forgive me if I say a bad word occasionally."
"Ah huh, sure." A quick glance to the solitary glass in front of Max went unnoticed, the other grunt instead furrowing his eyes while looking towards the bar.
"Oh what's she done now? I don't wanna get banned from this place too."
Turning around in his seat to follow Max's gaze, John saw the crowd of shady men and women gathering around where Viv had been standing. Mostly young adults with a few older gentlemen scattered within, he spotted the other Team Rocket grunt Viv had recognised earlier among them with her friends lightly swaying on their feet. From where he was sitting he wasn't able to make any sense of the excited murmurs from the huddled group, but he was soon able to spot Vivian's blue eyes staring at him and Max with her hand waving them over.
"Maybe we have to do our shots at the bar?" John guessed as he pushed his seat back to dismount, Max shaking his head and doing the same.
"I don't know why, never had to before."
Their comrade's grin at least pointed to it being a positive event, and as the pair of men made their way towards the bar the door leading to the darkened kitchen was propped open and people started to file through with a quickened pace. With the procession watched over by the bartender disappearing into the back, Viv was the only one still remaining when John and Max caught up.
"Guys, guys come on!" She beckoned towards the door, eyes wide with glee. "He's here! Tonight! I finally get to see him! I wonder if he's like the rumours."
John glanced to Max and got nothing but a confused look and a shrug so he looked back at Viv. "Your dad finally came back from the store with those cigarettes?"
The punch to the arm was expected and probably deserved.
"Haha, hilarious as always John-John but my parents love each other and they love me, I still call them every Sunday." Her smile only grew. "Nah, I'm talking about a Team Rocket legend here, the kind of guy grunts whisper about around the campfire. The kind of guy everyone knows about, but that nobody actually knows!" She paused for effect, leaning in towards them. "Shady Sam, he's here!"
"Wait, you actually mean the Shady Sam!?" Max gasped, eyes shooting towards the door everyone had disappeared through. "Here? Now?"
"Who the fuck is Shady Sam?" John grunted. "Only Shady I know is Slim Shady."
"Yeah, but you aren't the smartest around so shut up and see for yourself." With that Vivian shot her hand out to grasp his arm, Max needing no such coercion as John was pulled behind Viv and into the dark kitchen. Weaving around the counter, they headed for yet another door that seemed to lead towards a darkened alley behind the inn. "Trust me though, it's going to be good. Not likely we'll actually be able to afford anything, but if Shady Sam can't get it then it can't be got."
She let go of his arm as soon as they stepped outside, the alley fairly cramped and lacking any lights save for the large moon up above. Deeper in was the crowd from the bar, people gathered around a large black van with an occasional collective ooh and ahh in between the sound of rustling bags and hurried talking. With a grin and a jerk of her head towards the van Viv hurried over towards it with Max following close behind, and after a quick glance around to find nothing else of interest in the alley John decided to do the same.
Upon getting closer to the crowd he could see that many of them already had their wallets or purses out while they formed a semi-circle around the van's left side door, a pair of tattooed young men swaying on their feet off to one side with the bartender from the inn helping them sort out a sizable amount of banknotes. Excited whispers were shared all around, and while there was the occasional jostling or drunken stumble into another the crowd seemed fairly well behaved considering that half of them were probably members of Team Rocket just like himself. Speaking of criminals, Max and Viv were both standing near the van's front door, John just able to make out the looks of wonder on their faces thanks to the bright artificial light that spilled out from the open side door.
"Thank you sir, a splendid choice! Enjoy!"
An upbeat male voice came from inside the vehicle itself, and a young man wearing a black hoodie with a picture of the same round and spiky purple pokemon that matched the bobblehead in the Team Rocket van emerged from the crowd with something in his hands. About to pass John on the way back to the bar's backdoor, the guy noticed him looking and stopped to grin at him.
"Check it out," he said as he held out a small box made from dark oiled wood, a small gold latch on the front and what looked like a plastic seal running around the seam of the two halves. A golden emblem of an eagle-like bird was set into the top of the case. "Premium cigars from Unova, smuggled over only a week ago apparently." The case of contraband was withdrawn just as quick, the man clutching it to his chest. "Cost me a month's pay but worth every bit. He's everything like the rumours say and then some."
"Good to know," John managed to say with a smile, still a little confused even as the other man nodded at him before going back into the bar. Obviously Shady Sam was some kind of black-market dealer, he wasn't exactly called 'Honest Harry' after all, but it was a little odd to have to resort to back-alley setups considering that Team Rocket owned the entire town. Hell, Baron wasn't exactly shy with selling questionable merchandise right in the open for one.
The brief interaction had peaked John's curiosity though, and he walked up to stand behind his two friends as they whispered to each other. Thanks to his height compared to them and the rest of the crowd he was able to see right over into the small clear spot right by the open sliding door, the pierced team rocket grunt from before talking to the man inside the van while another young woman stood next to her with two purses clutched in her hands. The rest of the crowd patiently waited their turn, chatting and whispering to one-another as they looked over numerous hand-written paper signs and advertisements stuck to the side of the van with tape.
One large poster in particular was drawing a large amount of pointing and excitement, the black words simply reading 'Evolution Stones – Hefty discounts, 'Preowned' and looking for a new home.'
Looking over her shoulder when she noticed him, Viv aimed a grin at John after a final whisper to Max. Noticeably, the youngest grunt of their group was wearing a wince despite all of the previous excitement.
"Hey Johnny, any idea of what you want? I just convinced Maxie to fork over the rest of the spending money and it turns out we have two-hundred and ten to split between us. Not enough for anything fancy, but we could pick up something small." Before waiting for his reply, she gave Max a friendly elbow. "And don't worry like Max here, we'll just tell the Doc that we spent it on your clothes or whatever. He gave us a grand for a reason, and that's nothing to Team Rocket bigshots anyway."
Max ignored Viv and turned his guilt-ridden gaze to John. "I… It's a special occasion, alright? I wouldn't normally, but…" He hiccupped, cheeks still lightly flushed. "Well, the Doctor would probably understand even if we were truthful, right?"
John snorted at that. "Max, mate, are you really getting bent out of shape over splurging with some money they gave us to spend? You work for people who steal pets from children for Christ's sake." A quick follow up with a hint of judgment inserted alongside a raise of an eye. "And you're not that drunk, stop acting like the Asian girl at the party, yeah?"
His words only caused Max to wince harder. "I know, but it still feels wrong. Yari trusts us." Then it changed to a look of confusion. "And what do you mean by 'Asian girl'?"
"Chick who gets tipsy off of two cruisers and then acts like she just guzzled a litre of straight vodka, meaning that she then acts drunker than she actually is and uses it as an excuse to do some pretty fucked up shit in public. And yeah, he does." Placing one hand on Max's shoulder, John held up a finger on the other. "But he also didn't ask for receipts or the change and it's pretty much a universal practice to spend as much of work's money as possible when they give it to you. Trust me, he's already written that thousand off and will just be glad when we return with at least a shirt to show for it. Don't worry anyway, if he even bothers to ask about it I'll cover for you."
At his grin Max visibly relaxed, a slight smile returning. "Thanks. Yeah you're probably right."
"For once," Viv chimed in, jerking her head towards the side of the van as the two female rocket grunts each walked away with a flashy branded handbag and a satisfied smile. They were quickly replaced by an older man in a suit who pointed to the sign about evolution stones with his thick wallet already in his hand. "Make yourselves useful and see if you can spot anything good, we were last to get here though so we've got some time to browse."
It was a difficult task for John considering he couldn't see into the van itself to see what was on offer and the various makeshift advertisements were primarily focused on selling pokemon and pokemon-related accessories. He had next to no interest in any of it and he wasn't much of a smoker or designer handbag enthusiast either, so he eventually just gave up and told the other two to just split the money between themselves instead. Viv's glee at the announcement was expected, but it was a surprise when even Max accepted it without any worrying save for a single 'are you sure?'.
Over the next half-an-hour the crowd started to thin and return to the bar one-by-one, even those without freshly purchased items still leaving with smiles and laughs at having witnessed a local criminal legend.
Standing off to the side and letting Max and Viv browse with the others, John had stolen a few looks at what people had been buying as they passed. The cigar boxes and assorted bottles of liquor he had expected, as from what he had picked up from conversations the Unova region was known for both its luxury goods and its love for high export tariffs, and Shady Sam seemed well stocked with branded clothing and accessories that were either stolen or convincing-enough fakes. A couple of people even quickly walked away with boxed 'evolution' stones after forking over noticeably large amounts of cash, and John noticed more than a few wary glances towards the others in the alley.
Soon it was just the three of them left in the alley with the mysterious merchant, the pair of grunts actually buying something squabbling with each other over what to get before finally coming to a decision.
"Sweet, best night in a long time," Viv chortled as she re-joined John by the front of the van, a small black felt case held in her hand. She opened it with a proud smile to show off the two sparkling silver earrings that it contained, a gemstone the colour of deep blue set in each one. "Le Meilleur Du Luxe brand teardrops, for only a hundred and fifty too! What a steal!"
"Probably were," chuckled John, just as Max finished talking to the van man to walk over and join in with a smile.
"Or fake. Is 'Le Meilleur Du Luxe' even a real brand?"
"Dunno," Viv shrugged while closing the case and stuffing it in her pocket. "But it sounds Kalos-y so that's good enough for me." About to direct her own question back to Max, Viv was interrupted by John's scoff at the apparent existence of poke-france.
"Je suis fatigue et mon velo a ete vole."
If he remembered his high school French properly he'd just asked for directions to the Eiffel Tower and judging from the astonished stares he received he must have been spot on.
"You're fluent in Kalosian?" Max questioned, his own widened eyes matching Vivian's.
"Wee wee, bonjour baguette hon hon hon."
Whatever, it sounded French enough.
"Maybe I'm drunker than I thought," Viv muttered with a shake of her head, before she tore her gaze away from John's smug smirk to tilt her head at Max. "Ignoring hon hon Jo-hon, tell me you didn't waste your money..."
Max looked down at his feet, clutching the brown paper bag tighter in his arms. "N…no?"
"…Max." A spluttering laugh, Viv blinking her eyes at her co-worker's attempt. "Of all the things to buy from Shady Sam, from illegal booze to Galarian swords, you wanted that?"
"It's a collectable!"
"So?"
"So it's hard to find okay? I don't have to explain everything to you." It must have been the prior drinks but Max actually sounded irritated for once, his frown towards Vivian merely dismissed with some crossed arms and a mocking snort.
"Pfft, whatever makes you feel better."
At Max's long sigh, John jumped in with a question of his own and an attempt to keep the peace.
"What's the fuss over?"
Max's look to him lacked all of the previous vitriol and instead was almost pleading. "Please don't laugh," he said, reaching into the bag and carefully pulling out some kind of doll. Leaning in to get a better look at it John saw that it was a plush replica of a rattata, the glassy eyes pretty detailed and close to the real thing while the whole doll was about half the size of the actual pokemon. Max quickly returned it to the bag when Viv poorly hid a snicker behind her hand, John shooting her a look that silently said 'cut it out' before refacing Max. "Look, he offered me two for the price of one because apparently they don't sell that well, so I got one for myself as well as for Ratterick."
Of course he did. Sometimes John wondered just how someone like Max ended up in Team Rocket instead of being a normal and loving rat-beast trainer instead. At least the other members of the team actually seemed to enjoy being criminal bastards without an ounce of guilt. Speaking of unrepentant bastards, Vivian just couldn't stay silent and instead rolled her eyes at the explanation.
"Typical Max. You spoil that rat far too much you know."
"Viv, I-"
"Hey, come on you now," John interrupted Max before they both got going again. "There's nothing wrong with Max wanting to buy Ratterick a toy-"
"Collectable."
'I should have just let her fucking have you Max.'
"Collectable toy," John corrected with an unblinking look to Max, and the younger man's head retreated back into his shoulders. "Who cares if he picked one up for himself at the same time, at least it's not a shitty funko pop."
Viv smirked with a shake of her head. "Yeah, sure. Brave Sir John once again leaps to rescue the damsel in distress."
"Hey!"
Both of them ignored Max, John pointing a finger at Viv. "Guess that makes you the horrible dragon then."
Of course Viv being Viv, the accusation only caused her to swell with pride. "Damn right." Reaching out she grabbed Max around the wrist, ignoring his weak protests and nodding towards the door leading back into the inn. "So I'm going to drag this damsel back to my lair and have some more drinks." A glance to the van. "You should take a look, he has a huge amount of stuff packed away in there."
"Eh, I'm not overly interested."
She rolled her eyes at him. "At least talk to him a bit. Shady Sam isn't exactly the sort of man you meet everyday." Taking off with Max offering little resistance as he was pulled behind her, Viv grinned back at John. "Five minutes, our shots will probably all be ready by then. Maybe. I bought enough to stop a snorlax after all."
She didn't wait for a response, the pair of grunts heading back up the alley to disappear through the bar's backdoor. Left alone with the van, John just gave up and wandered around to the still-open side door. A little peek couldn't hurt, after all.
A thick block of wood serving as a makeshift counter blocked off the bottom half of the door, a small electrical lamp hooked to the van roof up top providing the only other source of light save for the moon. Boxes and cases were all John could see stacked up in the cramp-looking interior, the side-windows and windshield heavily tinted so he couldn't see into the cabin either. Trying to take advantage of his height to lean his head in and take a peek, John was stopped by a lithe figure appearing from further in the van's depths.
"Ah, the final customer finally steps up to browse my wares! Your two friends finally convinced you I see. A fine decision, I have many amazing items in stock and all can be purchased with minimal questions asked!"
He had to take a step back when the thin, middle-aged man leaned out towards him with his arms resting on the makeshift countertop, a slick mop of black hair held back by a pristine dark grey fedora.
Shady Sam certainly looked and dressed the part, a pair of sparkling purple eyes giving John a quick once-over while the mouth that was crowned by a pencil moustache widened into a pearly-white grin. A small golden rose was pinned to his blue suit's collar just above a red velvet pocket square, and the heavy trench coat that matched the colour of the hat looked right at home on an apparent smuggler. Or a serial flasher, but John was fairly sure that Shady Sam was the former. The latter was an occupation more suitable for a 'Wild Willie' or 'Raunchy Richard' after all.
"Something like that," John answered, once again eyeing the paper posters that advertised all sorts of pokemon-related items. "I'm not exactly sure what they think I'll find though, I'm not really a pokemon guy."
"So I heard," the salesman nodded, before smiling and tapping an ear when John raised an eye. "Good hearing is a boon in my line of work, sir. Speaking of, I can't help but notice that you're not a local from the sounds of it. I would say Galar seems the closest, but despite my extensive travels I can't quite place it."
"Fiore," John provided pretty much automatically. "The south bit."
"Hmm, so you say," Sam replied with his smile still strong, but John could see the mirth in his eyes. "I didn't know that Team Rocket recruited from Fiore?"
Even without the giant company branding on everything he'd still been found out.
"Do I just look like a criminal or something?"
"Oh no, not at all sir. Not that I can judge you for it even if you were, however." Sam gave an exaggerated glance around the empty alley before cupping a hand to his mouth and lowering his voice to a whisper. "Believe it or not, I've got a few outstanding parking tickets in Sinnoh so I'm not exactly squeaky clean." He noticed John's pointed look towards the sign advertising 'preowned' evolution stones, Sam standing up and chuckling. "Well, that and some other minor issues with global law enforcement. It's not that I'm a thief myself you see, more of an 'intermediary' assessor of value and private sales coordinator. A deal maker. On that point…"
Sam winked at him.
"How about our first deal of tonight? You don't tell the police that I'm possibly in possession of goods that are either ever-so slightly illegal or have their rightful ownership contested, and I won't tell them that the strong-willed young lady and refreshingly polite young man you are with were more than happy to tell me about their criminal ties without even needing to ask. Hmm?"
John snorted with amusement and shook his head. "Of course they did. Sure, not that the cops here would even care apparently." After taking a quick look around the alley himself, John refaced Sam with a question of his own. "So what's with the whole sneaking around in an alley thing anyway?"
Sam shrugged, a rather unexpected gesture considering the dapper dress. "What can I say? It's just so delightfully fun to skulk around in the dark. Also, it's good practice for when I'm not staying in a town controlled directly by your boss."
"Makes sense to me," John acknowledged with a nod.
"Splendid. Now with that cleared up, how about we get to business?" Reaching down behind the counter, the smuggler stood back up and held a worn wooden clipboard out towards John. "That should have a listing of my most popular items. Anything crossed out is unfortunately out of stock, but always feel free to ask as I may be able to source it in the future."
Taking the list, John looked it over and gave it a quick read. Nothing jumped out to him as particularly special, although the 'authentic Galarian plate armour' was tempting, and for some reason there was a listing for 'cheap pokemon supplements' that were just numerous vitamins and minerals but extremely overpriced to the point that John suspected that it was just codenames for illegal drugs. Finishing the last page, he handed the clipboard back with an apologetic shake of the head.
"Nah, sorry but nothing really takes my fancy. Well, unless the price of the plate armour is flexible."
Accepting the clipboard, Shady Sam raised an eye with a hum. "Flexible? I'm always open to some haggling but that is an authentic suit from the Royal Museum of Galar, currently… on permanent loan, so to speak. It has to be a good offer."
John winced. "Like… a thousand Pokebucks?"
"Ha, that might get you one gauntlet. One!" Shaking his head, Sam placed the clip board down and raised a finger to the air. "How about this instead?"
From somewhere in the interior of the van the smuggler pulled out a large backpack, black and sturdy with plenty of pockets and points for strapping things to it. It looked brand new and waterproof, the only potential downside being the bright red and white pokeball icon stuck on the sides and flap of the main centre pocket. It reminded John of the backpack Zac the trainer from the warehouse had worn, geared for hiking or camping.
"An official Kanto Pokemon League Championship sponsored backpack, a limited run colouration as well." Turning the backpack over to look at it himself, Sam chuckled. "Turns out not many trainers are fans of just black, however. Well, maybe except for the dark or ghost specialists, but regardless I doubt the League noticed that a few boxes 'fell' off the back of the truck." A hopeful look to John. "What about it? Official trainer gear designed by trainers, for trainers. You won't find better, except maybe those fancy Silph Co ones. Let's say… a flat one hundred. Incredibly fair."
John scrunched his nose up. "It's not really what I had in mind."
"Another option then." The backpack was left on the counter, Sam turning around to pick out one of the same wooden boxes that he'd seen earlier from a small humming cabinet. "Premium Unovian cigars, perfect for a classy gentleman and even better when they're imported tariff-free. Pure natural tobacco and rolled in the leaves from an Oran tree, so they may even be good for you!" The golden eagle emblem was shown off, Shady Sam running a finger along the small plastic strip that surrounded the seam of the box. "I can't guarantee that that claim is accurate, but I can promise that they're fresh and delicious."
Another shake of the head from John, Sam sighing a little before returning the box to the humidifier and looking around in other boxes. In the process he nudged a squat and heavy chest to the side, John catching a glimpse of something that had been hidden behind it.
"Hey, what's that?"
"Hmm?" Sam looked to him before following where John's finger was pointing.
"In the pelican case. That grey one."
Sam's smile faltered when he saw what had caught the large grunt's attention. "Oh, you mean the pelipper case. Nothing important." The correction caused John to grit his teeth.
'…I hate this place.'
Sam misjudged the reason for his reaction, the salesman spreading his hands out in an apologetic gesture. "I assure you sir that you don't want what's in that case."
Unfortunately for Sam, it had the reverse effect. "Huh," John said with his eyebrow raising in sync with his curiosity. "Why not? A sturdy looking case for nothing important."
"It's… well…"
Leaning out, Sam scoured the alleyway around them again for any sign of observers. This time however there was no exaggeration for humorous effect, the purple eyes darting around almost nervously as his voice lowered to a subtle whisper.
"Okay, okay, fine. Look, it's an illegal item, okay?" A short and sharp sigh escaped Sam when John gave a pointed look around the van and the advertisements stuck to the side. "No, I mean illegal illegal. To the point where even I actually considered dumping it into the sea rather than sell it. That's how you know how illegal it is."
John grinned. "You know, now I really want to know what it is. Are you sure I just can't take a peek?" He chuckled, more at how Sam struggled to keep a smile on his face. "Come on Shady Sam, I'm no Snitching Steven. Cross my heart." Thinking back to their prior introductions of sorts, he shrugged and went in for the kill. "We made a deal, remember? Do you want to lose your title of Dealmaker?"
He could have sworn that Sam's mouth moved ever so slightly to utter out a silent curse word, and the shifty merchant glanced away from him and back to the case with visible strain on his face. Then the purple eyes refocused on John, no gleam of joy or humour to be found in them.
"You're not going to just forget about this unless I show you, I take it?" guessed Sam after a few moments of silence. Then, at John's eager nod as confirmation, he groaned out a sigh before giving in and pointing towards the rear of the van. "Fine, but only because Shady Sam prides himself on being a customer-driven businessman. Go round to the back, I am not showing this at the counter."
Happy to accept the terms, John did as asked and hurried over to the rear of the vehicle. After some very muffled cursing then the clanking of heavy locks being lifted, the rear doors opened to reveal Sam standing up with a mountain of boxes all around him.
"Come on then, up into the back. We're closing the doors for this one."
"I'm fairly certain that I was told to not go into windowless vans with strangers. At least have the decency to lure me in with some lollies first."
"Oh shut up," Sam grunted, the façade slipping as he waved at John with a hand. "I'm the one at risk here. Besides, not to insult the gentleman, but I doubt I'd be able to sell you for much without a lot of work put into the marketing."
"Well, way to disappoint me." Still, ignoring any potential threat of kidnapping John stepped up to clamber into the van. It groaned on its tires and Sam seemed to go a bit paler in the dim artificial light when the large vehicle threatened to list to the rear, but he didn't say anything except a curt thanks when John shut the rear doors behind him. To say it was now even more cramped in the van was an understatement, one of Johns shoulders squished up against a metal box mounted on a side rack while a life-sized plush of an audino got a groin to the face as he turned slightly to the side to fit in amongst the various containers. "So, why the secrecy?"
Sam, quickly closing the sliding side door, had no problems navigating the cramped interior as he knelt down to retrieve the case in question. It looked pretty much exactly like the pelican cases that John had seen countless times before, a thick outer layer of grey polymer protecting the sensitive contents within.
"Not a word of this to anyone, not even your two criminal friends," Sam hissed. "Actually, especially not to them."
Without waiting for a reply a quick six-digit combination was entered into a front rotary lock and the case was opened, John looking within and feeling just a little let down.
Now, he wasn't entirely sure what he had expected. Given the world he was in and the caution from Sam he was expecting some kind of egg from a dangerous pokemon, a miniature portal generator, or maybe even a forbidden drug that turned you into a superhuman with laser eyes or flame breath. Instead of anything like that however, all that was contained within the thick black foam of the case was a single black pistol that looked to John like a basic Glock and three empty pistol magazines devoid of any bullets.
"That's it?" His scoffing laugh and dismissive wave at the weapon only caused Sam's eyes to widen. "It's just a gun mate, why the huge fuss?"
Now, handguns weren't really seen in his home country save for on police, in shooting clubs, and occasionally used by criminal gangs but despite the common perception firearms weren't exactly hard to get legally. Hell, his old man owned several rifles for hunting and multiple friends had amassed personal armouries of bolt actions, shotguns, and one even managed to legally acquire a Barrett fifty cal. Still, even with his country having a reputation for being tough on gun ownership, he doubted a criminal would be so panicked around having a single handgun. Especially one working as a fence like Shady Sam.
"Just a gun?"
"Well… yeah?" John shrugged, taking another look. "I mean, it's nice and all, but it's a single handgun with some empty mags. You're acting like you're selling a machine gun looted straight from the local army base."
All of Sam's forced cheeriness had faded well before, but the back-alley dealer was now openly staring at John like he was mad.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you can get in for having an unlicensed gun in any League-aligned region?"
A shrug. "Well, I mean I am a member of Team Rocket. Allegedly. Kind of risking a trip to the slammer whenever I wake up in the morning you know."
"That's nothing," scoffed Sam, keeping the case open but ensuring that it was held close to him. "You'd get a slap on the wrist and a few months for most things, maybe a few years if they catch you during a big heist. But getting caught with a gun, let alone after being foolish enough to actually use it, it isn't exactly the same as petty thievery or pokemon abduction. They come down hard on that, in every region." A snort. "Well, Unova is a little laxer naturally, but there's a reason their police have firearms themselves and not just pokemon." He stared at John. "We, sir, are not in Unova however. Guns are treated as a very serious issue, and this one is especially dangerous to have."
Looking to the firearm in question John scanned it over with renewed interest. It didn't look very special to him, and he tried to guess at the category it would belong to in this world.
"You sure? What is it, a nine mil? Ten?"
"An Unovian 'Brock' pistol, and I believe it's a 'nine-millimetre' model."
Upon hearing the name John was almost tempted to just grab the gun and club himself to death with it, but he managed to control himself and instead only uttered out a tired request for clarification. "They called it a 'Brock', seriously?"
Sam nodded with a sympathetic purse of the lips, but it wasn't because of the similarity to 'Glock'.
"Unova is very proud of the weapons they produce and tend to name them after their designers, but for some reason they occasionally neglect to name certain models. In this case, instead of 'Handgun Model Twelve', this one gained the name 'Brock' after the famous Unovian action hero, Brock Samson. Don't ask me why, I don't know."
'I know,' John thought to himself with an inwards frown. 'It's because God is fucking with me. Which god I don't know, but certainly one of them is being a fucking dog right about now.'
"Name aside," Shady Sam continued. "It's not the model of this gun that's the issue, it's the history."
"Ah, it's hot?" Upon seeing Sam furrow his brows, John followed up with clarification. "You know, stolen or 'pre-used'?"
Sam muttered something under his breath before answering. "The latter, definitely. Thankfully not actually used to shoot anyone, but the idiot that formally owned it may have let off a few rounds into the ceiling of a pokemart or two before selling it to me. He also may have neglected to inform me about his usage of it before I bought it, although I should have been more wary of the incredibly low price he wanted for it." Staring mournfully at the weapon, the fence sighed softly. "I let my greed get the better of me on this one, maybe that's why I've kept it around. A reminder that not even Shady Sam is immune from mistakes."
"Tell me about it. Feels like that's all I make these days."
A touch of a smile reignited on Sam's face. "I'll take your word for it. Speaking of," the smile widened. "The underhanded passing off to me didn't help the knucklehead avoid the consequences of his actions, the police caught him selling stolen TM's on the pokenet and the moron didn't even know that you have to wipe the physical and virtual serial numbers off first. Amateur hour, I would have gladly bought them and done the work myself. He ended up with twenty-years non-parole, so it's not all bad."
John nodded with his eyes going back to the gun. From the sounds of things firearms were even more of a big deal in this world than his last, and the consequences for even owning one when not authorised was almost as serious as actual homicide. It was a little odd given that actual children were trusted with fire-breathing lizards and even creatures that were allegedly psychic, things that John thought were far more dangerous than one measly handgun, but apparently a gun was practically on the same level of 'do not touch' as the bloody apple of Eden.
But you know what they say about fruit. The more forbidden it is, the sweeter the taste.
"How much?"
Sam blinked. "Excuse me?"
"How much for the gun and the case?"
A moment of silence passed as the question hung in the air, before Sam answered with his own question. Slowly.
"Were you not listening? This is not just something I can sell, especially to someone who I don't even know."
"We do know each other, I even trusted you enough to step into your molester-mobile. We're basically good mates at this point." Grinning, he pointed down at the pink-and-cream life-size pokemon plush that was currently squished up against his groin as he awkwardly stood in the cramped van. "Likewise, if I spend much more time standing here with this pretty sheila's face against my cock then I'm fairly sure that I have to legally marry it, so just give me a price so I can go."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I already told you, it's too much of a risk. Even I, as great as I am with avoiding the legal consequences, am hesitant to even possess this."
John beamed at Shady Sam. "Bonza then, that means that I'm helping you out when I buy it from you. You should be glad to get rid of it, your small chance of being caught with it goes straight down to zero then. Win-win."
"Win-win," Sam snorted out with a mutter, before his eyes narrowed and he shifted the hard case to one hand so he could point a finger at John. "Oh no you don't, Shady Sam wasn't born yesterday so that won't work on me. It's not for sale."
"I reckon I recall you stating that 'all stock is for sale, no questions asked' earlier. Or are you less of a Shady Sam and more of a Larry the Liar?"
"This is different! Also, I explicitly said 'minimal questions', not 'no questions'. There is a huge difference."
Still, judging from the increased amount of exasperated sighs John was steadily waring Sam down with the old tried and true 'be an annoying, cunting prick' tactic. Even the pencil moustache looked like it was starting to droop when the purple eyes next looked at him with clear irritation.
"Why do you even want it anyway? I know for a fact that Team Rocket doesn't do anything as dangerous as to warrant having to carry a gun on a job instead of a pokemon, and you're not exactly on the small side anyway." John would have puffed out his chest with pride if he had the space to. "So why the insistence?"
John shrugged, his shoulder jostling one of the boxes in the side rack. "Guns are cool, I want one." What went unsaid was the possibility of owning something a little more familiar for defence, until he could get over his current ineptitude with pokemon. Thinking back to the pair of grunts probably wondering where he was, he thought of Vivian's purchase. "It's no more useless than a pair of expensive earrings when you think about it. Actually a firearm is just like pair of really fancy earrings, I mean really gaudy shit, but more like earrings for men. You don't always wear them when going out because people might look at you funny and judge you, but when you do bust them out it's always makes for a special occasion."
"That… there is…" For probably one of the few times in his life Shady Sam was well and truly confused. "Sir, is there actually something wrong with you?"
"Yeah, you won't let me buy the gun."
It was the final straw, the hard case snapping shut followed by Shady Sam throwing his free hand up into the air.
"Gods up high, why do you test me so!?" Frowning at John's grin, Sam jabbed a finger at his chest. "Fine, you win. I give up. I forfeit. I'll sell you the wretched thing just so I never get the temptation to actually use it on myself after making the mistake of even showing it to you. Don't say I didn't warn you though, if you get caught by the police with it I hold no responsibility and I expect you to not mention my name."
John's smug look, reinforced with a bountiful seasoning of sweet victory, probably wasn't helping Sam's mood.
"Of course, I'll take the info to my grave."
Jokes on Shady Sam, death was apparently not as great a guarantee as it used to be.
The disgruntled merchant set the case down on the counter and lifted his hat to smooth his oiled hair, a low breathe of air followed by the big question.
"What's your offer?"
'Oh, shit. That's right.' Retrieving his envelop-wallet from the pocket of his jeans, John took a quick inventory of his banknotes. 'I have no idea what guns go for here, but it's not exactly related to pokemon so maybe I have enough…'
He counted about eight-hundred and twenty, practically all that he had to his name save for the two hundred he'd taped to the back of the toilet in his room for emergencies. Despite assurances from both Joben and Yari, he didn't quite trust either Team Rocket or the regional bank with his ill-gotten gains.
Conscious of his small amount of funds, John narrowed his eyes at Sam and worked his jaw from side to side.
"Well, it's preowned and perused, and you said yourself that it would cause problems for you if someone found out you had it." He ignored the glare from the older man opposite him. "How about… six hundred?"
A firm shake of the head. "Absolutely not, besides," Sam regained a bit of his former smile, but this time the friendliness had been replaced by an almost predatory air. "You said yourself that you don't care about it being preowned or perused, so I think nine hundred is a fair price."
"Nine hundred? Come on, for one little handgun? It's only a nine mil too, practically a BB gun. Six-hundred and fifty, and I'll give you a good review on the pokenet."
"This isn't Unova, you can't just buy this in a store you know." Even though he scoffed, the bartering back-and-forth was starting to bring a little bit of joy back to Sam's smile. "Eighty hundred and eighty, that's including a very sturdy case and three original magazines. Pelipper cases go for a few hundred themselves brand new, easily, and this one is in top condition." A long, exaggerated sigh. "And I also forgot to mention earlier that the gun was sold with a cleaning and maintenance kit for it, never used and still fresh in the pack. I'll even throw that in for free."
It was a tempting offer, but it was still just a touch too high.
"Yeah, because you'll be able to sell a handgun maintenance kit to someone without them already having a handgun to start with, and they're apparently as rare as an honest pollie." Waving a dismissive hand, John winked. "But I'm true blue and you seem like a good bloke Sam, so I'm willing to give you seven hundred dollary-doos for the lot. Cold hard cash."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't accept card or cheques anyway." Still, a hand went to rub his stubbly chin. "Flattery can also go a long way, but money speaks louder. How about eight hundred instead, since you seem to like your increments of fifty?"
Almost.
"Sam, Sam, Sam, mate." John struggled to unfurl his hands, the limited space and his bulk making it difficult. "You're like a Kiwi and I'm the sheep stuck in the fence, why are you trying to fuck me so hard?" Taking advantage of the momentary flash of confusion as Sam tried to figure out the exact specifics, John went in for the kill. "I can do you seven-fifty, but…" he held up a finger, his other hand pointing towards the black backpack sitting next to the case on the counter. "But, you have to throw in the backpack as well. After all," his grin grew with a shrug. "Walking out of this van and into the bar with that military-looking case, ridding you of a massive legal liability in the process, might cause people to ask questions. You don't want questions, right?"
Sam glanced to the mentioned backpack with his mouth slightly open even as he shook his head so slightly it was barely noticeable. "Oh you sneaky son of a…" Looking back at John after his mutter, it took a few seconds of scrutiny before the smuggler finally cracked. "Fine, I don't like it but fine. The gun, magazines, case, cleaning kit, and the Official Pokemon-League Endorsed Backpack Version B for seven hundred and fifty pokedollars and your oath to not spill the beans when the cops bust you doing something stupid with it. Which you no doubt will." A hand was extended out to John, and despite the visible strain on Shady Sam's face there was at least a hint of a genuine smile amongst the lines. "Deal, and congratulations on being one of the most stubborn and infuriating sales I've had to make this whole decade. It will be almost worth parting with it just to see you leaving my van so I can finally escape."
"I enjoyed our talk as well," John said as he grasped the offered hand with his own, the two briefly shaking before Sam broke it to turn his palm up.
"Now, the money," the criminal merchant smiled, eyes locked on the envelope John was shifting through. "As soon as you pay me, I'll give you everything as well as reset the code to the case's lock." As the banknotes were counted out and made their way to his hand, Sam even managed to make a quick chuckling joke. "Well, everything except a certificate of ownership of course and a receipt, please understand."
Laughing along and finishing the transaction, John suddenly stopped before putting the very last twenty down in Sam's waiting hand.
"What's wrong?"
Eyes on the case, he couldn't help but wonder just how Sam was going to take the next question.
"Oh, nothing much mate." Doing his best to smile warmly at the stressed-out smuggler, he gave the man another cheeky wink. "I was just thinking, when old mate sold you his gun, did he happen to give you any of the bullets as well…?"
The van doors roughly slammed behind John as soon as he dismounted the vehicle, a jolly smile on his face and his new officially endorsed backpack slung over a shoulder. It was heavy with the weight of his new pistol, case, accessories, and most importantly the plain box of forty or so nine-millimetre bullets that Shady Sam had literally thrown at him to get him to finally leave. That particular 'transaction' had happened so quickly that John hadn't even had time to read the details on the box about the exact grain or type of bullets. On the upside Shady Sam hadn't even bothered to haggle over it, with his only requested payment being that John 'Get the fuck out of' his van.
That very same van's engine turned on not a moment later, the vehicle speeding far to quickly up the alley to turn the corner and disappear down the connected street.
It was nice, making friends.
Speaking of friends it was high time that he returned to Max and Viv, so he quickly strode over towards the bar's backdoor only to find it locked. A few firm knocks later and a moment of waiting, and it cracked open to reveal the very same bartender from earlier in the evening.
"Took a while," the bearded man grunted after looking him over and recognising him.
"What can I say? He loves a chat, Ol' Sam."
The door was opened fully without further comment, John weaving through the kitchen to return back to the bar. With a giddy bounce in his step he strolled over to his friends waiting at their table, only slowing down when he comprehended the sheer number of shots that awaited him. It was like a high school party all over again, a large silver tray struggling to hold all of the various glasses each holding a bright and colourful portion of alcohol. That was even with the four empty shot glasses already in front of Vivian, Max sitting down and working his tongue around his mouth while a further two empties sat near him on the table.
"Holy shit, he returns." Viv threw her arms into the air with an impish grin. "We were just about to call the cops to rescue you. Ain't that right, Max?"
The blonde grunt looked up at John, his eyes hazy while he continued to lick the inside of his mouth.
"John, help," he pleaded. "I think I can taste the purple."
"Oh yeah, that's the Blizzard Blast, highly recommend." Sliding into his seat, John made sure to keep his new backpack next to him on the ground as Viv eyed it while she spoke. "All that time to just pick out a single bag? Looks pretty sturdy though."
"Had a bit of a yarn as well," he told her, picking up a shot of golden liquid and throwing it back. It tasted like honey mixed with hazelnut, but it was far too sweet for his liking. Instead he went for a half red, half blue one for his next one. "Strange bloke, Sam. Pretty glad you convinced me to take a gander in the end though, so thanks for that." Viv grinned and Max gawked when the second shot in the space of thirty seconds was downed, this one tasting like berries and a bit of spice. Pretty good, actually.
"No problem, John-hon-hon. Anytime you want advice, Viv is here for you."
Shaking his head with a smile he ignored the dreadful realisation that he'd armed her with a new nickname as he reached for another drink to sample, the next one up a sparkling light green. Watching him all the while, Max himself shakily reaching for another shot, Vivian waggled her eyes at the largest member of their group.
"So, on the topic of amazing advice and convincing you to try things, are you up for a bit of a friendly competition?"
Meeting her stare and downing his third shot, a refreshing burst of mint and lime gracing his tongue, John clacked his empty glass on the tray. "Your terms?"
"The entire bed goes to the winner, and the loser gets the floor with a pillow and blanket." Both of them looked to Max, who to his credit managed to gulp down another shot with only a brief wince. "Maxie already has the couch, that's the usual deal."
"I love the couch!" Max announced with a finger pointing up to the ceiling, swaying slightly in his seat. "Viv told me that I won it."
Sharing a knowing grin with the mentioned female, John gave Max a friendly pat on the back.
"Yeah buddy, you sure did."
"Yeah!"
They left Max to mumble to himself through a sloppy smile and go for a forth drink, the pair both selecting their next shots with renewed purpose.
"Game on," Viv announced with a raised glass. "Hope you like the floor John, because that bed is mine tonight! You're going to regret challenging me to a battle, because I'm like the pokemon champion of alcoholism!"
Copying her salute, John winked at her. "Sucks to be you, back home we were the ones who invented the drive-through bottle-shop. Drinking is in my blood."
"You think that will save you? You have no idea what you're in for!"
John just looked her dead on and threw back his shot, barely even tasting the coffee liqueur. "Hasn't stopped me yet, Viv. And at the moment I'm racking up bad decisions like they're a combo bonus." He was already reaching for another, none of them noticing the bartender leaning on the bar alternating his gaze from his phone to them with a sad shake of his head. "I haven't got much to lose as a result, so I'm challenging you for your title. Bring it on, so-called champion."
AN: Surely everything will be okay. As for the naming, well, my pre-reader/person who's the primary audience for this suggested it and I figured why not? I wasn't exactly keen to do another poke-pun and, much like keeping in the existence of the metric system, sometimes it pays to not complicate things of little importance. This chap was originally part of the previous but I have a bad habit of writing absolute monsters so I ended up splitting it into two parts. My final year of uni is starting (including a mandatory practicum for a few months) so I may have to change to a fortnightly update moving forwards, but who knows. Sometimes I can sit down and churn out three-four thousand on a good night so hopefully it might be all right. On that note I've already started on the next chapter, and hopefully it should be ready on time next week.
Thanks for the reviews too, I won't make this a common thing but a couple of them are almost enough words to make a chapter each.
Harasyn: Yeah the plot is currently building up a bit, I really like to get a good amount of character established before diving on in. Doubly so when the MC has no prior knowledge as well. On the strength part he's still getting there, but he's not even close to what people in real life are capable of yet. I know ex-army guys who pretty much spent eighty-percent of their service in the gym and they're massive. John's just a bit larger than most in the new world (Bruno utterly mogs him though), and can be a bit of a bully when he wants to. I also wouldn't use a tired Spearow as a baseline for pokemon strength, Stringbean wasn't entirely wrong in his assessment of the situation. *Slight spoiler ahead* As for a pokemon partner, I can say for sure that he will be getting one in the near future.
GenomasBR: Funny you should mention the next mission...