Have I ever mentioned I hate QuickEdit with a firey passion?

Some text that was deleted for some unknown reason has been restored. It does nothing to change the flow of the story, just the sort of personal formatting issues that drive me, the author, utterly stark raving mad.

First Chapter: Meet

(location unknown)

She didn't know where she was, but it felt like some sort of room, only without walls. Just a floor and a ceiling. The space was utterly dark, too dark for her to make out even the outline of her hand when she waved it in front of her face and touched her nose. Ironically, there was some illumination, a band of yellow across the ceiling (which is why the space made her think of a room), but the light it cast seemed to be swallowed up before it could filter down and give some definition to the space she was stuck in.

Stay or go forward? she wondered. She certainly didn't want to be stuck in this place, but who knew if there were holes or spikes or other nasty things in the inky pitch darkness?

A patch of ground started to glow as if there was a spotlight hidden inside the floor, still showing light somehow without casting it as well. If she could have seen enough to make sure that she wouldn't put her eyes out by accident, she would have started tearing out her hair in frustration. The light shined even brighter for a moment, and…

"Hi! Sorry to keep you waiting!"

"YAAAH!" she screamed, jumping back a pace, tripping, and landing unceremoniously on her butt. The floor felt like smooth stone or glass, but even with that damn spot glowing on the floor like a floodlight, all that precious shine only seemed to go straight up, not outward. She could vaguely make out a man in a white lab coat, although he looked more like a hippie than any scientist she'd ever seen pictures of in magazines or on the news. He had shaggy brown hair and a beard that both looked in need of a trim, and the gray shirt and cargo shorts he wore under his coat looked more suited for a bout of tree-hugging in the Ilex or Viridian forests, rather than doing any serious work. And… yes, he was wearing flip-flops! What kind of self-respecting scientist wore flip-flops?

"Welcome to the world of pokemon!" he continued, ignoring her.

"World of… what the hell are you talking about? This is Earth, and…"

"My name is Birch," he informed her cheerfully, as if he hadn't just cut her off yet again.

"You know what this, this is one of those things where you take your insecurities over your lousy name out on me. Well, it's not funny. Find someone else to-"

"But everyone calls me the Pokemon Professor."

"HOLY HO-OH, WILL YOU STOP INTERRUPTING ME!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

Nothing. Not even so much as a twitch. Was he deaf or something?

"This is what we call a 'Pokemon'," he continued, pulling out a Poke Ball. A burst of light revealed an Azurill, which started smiling and bouncing around as if to placate her with its cuteness as if she were a little, daft child to be easily distracted by the adorable bouncing mouse.

"Is this supposed to be some sort of a joke?" she asked far, far too softly. "What kind of fool doesn't know what a pokemon is? Even an idiot knows what a pokemon is! Little children and senile old men can recognize them on sight! What kind of a mentally challenged fool do you think I am?" The last question came out in an enraged, ear splitting shriek. Birch didn't even blink at her, and the damn Azurill continued to bounce, and trill out "Rull! Azurill!" at random intervals.

"This world is widely inhabited by creatures known as pokemon," he continued, as if he was talking to a preschooler. She had to forcibly stop herself from verbally retaliating. It wasn't as if everything she'd said before had had any effect whatsoever. "We humans live alongside Pokemon at times as friendly playmates, and at times as cooperative workmates. And sometimes, we band together and battle others like us." I wonder, if I kill him, can I leave? Desperate times did call for desperate measures… and who would miss someone named after a tree, anyway?"But despite our closeness, we don't know everything about pokemon." At least I wouldn't have to listen to Captain Birch the Obvious anymore… "In fact, there are many, many secrets surrounding pokemon. To unravel pokemon mysteries, I've been undertaking research. That's what I do."

"Not anymore you don't!" she announced. Not that announcing that you were going to attack someone was a smart idea, but he hadn't heard anything she'd said before, and…

"Ow!" she yelped as she bounced off of something that felt like a solid sheet of plastic. Dazed, she saw nothing between her and the source of her torment but a circle of light. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, she reached out with a hesitant hand and felt something like a wall of nothing. Either there was some sort of barrier that she couldn't see, or light was solid in this… where the heck was she, anyway?

"And you are?" he asked her. As he spoke the words a circle of light materialized around her while his drifted off into the distance, fading rapidly out of sight "Are you a boy or a girl?" Even though she couldn't see him, he still sounded like he was right next to her. Or behind her…

"Are you blind AND senile?" she hissed, dancing around the circle trying to locate him. With the way her luck was running today, he was probably some sort of psychotic stalker. "No, I look like this and I'm a boy."

"Okay, what's your name?" She looked askance at him and then looked down at herself. She was now wearing a black and red jacket, and she…

"NOOOO! I'm a girl, a girl! My name is Terra Laurel Boyden! I am a girl, a girl I tell you! I am…"

(Littleroot, inside a moving truck. Beware of falling objects...)

"…girl, a girl I say! Change me back you evil old man…!"

Katia sighed, unclipping one of the blue barrettes that kept her bangs out of her eyes and readjusting it to capture a stray strand that had been getting in her eyes. Only Terra could sleep on a moving truck, but if she didn't stop flailing around she was going to make one of those stacks of boxes fall on her.

"Terra? Terra honey, we're here!" she called out to her daughter from the safety of the door of the truck. Terra sat up with a gasp and somehow managed to knock into the stack of boxes that she had already hit several times while thrashing, sending the entire stack careening down. With a strangled eeping noise, she lunged forward and managed to avoid getting squashed by falling boxes, landing half on the ramp, half on the floor of the truck with a disgruntled expression on her face. Blue eyes, only a shade brighter than her mother's, glared up from underneath a cheerful pale red (NOT pink) bandanna printed with white pokeballs.

"I don't know how, but this is your fault," she snapped irritably while straightening her red bandana. "Just because you wanted to talk to that hot mover guy, you stuck me in the back with the boxes! It's not fair! I'm going to tell Dad that you were flirting with him!"

"Terra, that is enough! We were two adults having a pleasant conversation, and I'm far too old to be in the back with all those boxes…"

"Mom, relax, I was only teasing you," sighed Terra. Her mom was blushing like a schoolgirl. She hadn't been serious when she'd said that, nothing had happened between her mom and John the Mover Guy… right? "I just had a really, really strange dream. Oh, and I was almost killed by boxes. No big deal, really…"

Katia snorted and rolled her eyes, but on the inside she was wincing. Terra could have been seriously hurt if the boxes had fallen on her… I knew it was a bad idea to put her in the back… "You see these, girl?" she asked, holding up a fistful of shoulder-length dark chestnut hair just beginning to show streakings of silver. "You gave me all these pulling crazy stunts."

"I didn't make those crates almost fall on me…" Terra protested, annoyed.

Katia waved that aside, an inconsequential detail in the chain of events. "And how did you ruin your hair, then?"

"I… I did not 'ruin' my hair, I like it the way it is," she lied. She had lost almost all of her hair just last week when a wild Gloom she'd been feeding was startled by a swarm of Spearow taking off. One razor leaf attack later, and…

Well, she really did like her hair, all short in the back with two tails that hung down cutely in the front. It looked better this way (and was far easier to take care of) then when it had been down to her waist.

"Anything wrong, ladies?" John the Mover Guy asked, rounding the truck with false concern written on every like of his face.

"Near miss with… the books and the glasses, I think. Oh Snorlax, that box that fell from the very top is the one from my room! Goodbye computer and alarm clock…"

"Don't worry about your stuff, little missy, we use extra packaging for things like that," John the Mover Guy assured her with a cheap movie star grin. Ugh, how cheesy. I guess I really was better off in the back.

"Terra honey, it'll take some time for the movers to be finished. The box with your books in it is right over there, I could just have it opened up and…"

"I'd rather explore the town!" Terra protested.

Katia visibly hesitated. "I don't know, honey… we just got here, and…"

"Come on Mom, this place is microscopic. There's no way anything bad could happen to me in such a small town," she wheedled while inwardly making plans to slip off if need be. Her parents were positively phobic over letting her wander around by herself in new places. It was as if they were afraid she'd either get lost or vanish like smoke the moment she dropped out of their sight. And even when they did let her off her short leash they were almost fanatical about checking up on her. It was the sort of thing that could drive a person crazy after a while.

"Well… the Birches live next door. Do you remember them? Wait, no of course you don't, you were little more than a baby the last time we saw them. They have a son about your age, so why don't you go visit them?"

"Okay," Terra sighed. In the never ending battle for breathing space, even a small victory was to be cherished, but in a town the size of Littleroot this was truly a small one. Birch, Birch, that name sounds familiar… maybe something from that creepy dream I just had? I've already forgotten most of it. She wandered off away from the truck and truly looked at the little town… no, village… for the first time. Littleroot was small. Much smaller than anywhere they had lived before, when her father was still moving all over the place as a traveling trainer. There were twenty small houses lined up on what passed for main street, a tiny, locally run convenience store on one corner, a slightly larger school building on the other, and, a little further up the (dear holy Ho-oh) dirt road, there was a building about twice the size of the houses, probably the lab that she'd heard about. Hell, there wasn't even a Pokemon Center! EVERYWHERE had a Pokemon Center!

"Oh, my, Mew. We are officially in the sticks," she muttered. Were there even a hundred people in this little flyspeck of a town? She strongly doubted it. With a world-weary sigh she trudged up to the house next to hers and knocked halfheartedly. At least once she got inside, she wouldn't have to look at how minuscule the town was. Even the forest outside town had a clichéd 'Pigey are singing and the Sentret are romping' feeling to it. She had gotten used to seeing something new and exciting every day when traveling with her father. This place was… tame. That was the word she was looking for. She hadn't had much of a chance to deal with tameness in her short lifetime, and she could already tell that she was going to hate it. If we had to stay in a town for a long time, why couldn't we have just remained in Fuchsia? They'd been living there for nearly six months before coming here. That was the longest she could ever remember having stayed in one place. Or we could have moved to Goldenrod! They have a Normal gym in Goldenrod. But Gym Leaders were appointed for life, unless they were promoted to Master rank upon the death of an Elite Four member, and Whitney didn't seem to be in any danger of kicking the bucket any time soon. In Petalburg, her father had a shot at a steady and decent wage, something they hadn't had any reason to hope for in the past. Her parents weren't kids anymore, it was time for them to settle down. She should try to be happy, at least for their sake.

Okay, happy thoughts, she told herself as she waited on the front stoop. I wonder what the Birches' son is like. It would certainly be nice to have a friend for a change, she thought to herself, trying very hard to find an upside to the situation.She had never lived in one place long enough to really have a friend. She had an easy enough time picking up people to hang out with when they stopped in the same town for more than a few days at a time, but she'd never really stayed in touch with anyone long enough to really have a friend. Even the kids she'd hung out with in Fuchsia were already rapidly fading memories, and she doubted that they were missing her that badly at the moment either. It seemed that even if she could find the same people if they came back to the same town, that they had changed completely, while she… hadn't.

The door was opened by a woman with curly light brown hair cascading down to her waist and cheery green eyes. "Brendan, if you could just… oh, I'm sorry. You're obviously not who I was expecting. I'm Isolde Birch… are you new in Littleroot?" she asked.

"I'm Terra Boyden. My family and I just moved in next door."

"Ah, you're Katia and Norman's kid! Tristan and I were married shortly after you were born. You were even there at the wedding… not that you remember something that happened when you were that little."

"Sorry but no," she said politely, thankfully grateful that she wasn't going to be questioned over things that she had been far too young to commit to memory.

"Well don't just stand there on the stoop! Feel free to come in!" the woman offered cheerfully.

"I, ah, thank you, Mrs. Birch," she replied, stepping inside and taking off her much-worn traveling shoes. "I was told you had a kid my age…"

"You mean Brendan?" she asked just as a timer went off in the background. "Goodness, the muffins! I completely forgot about them!"

"Go ahead," Terra offered with a smile. "It's alright, I understand…" The words were barely out of her mouth before Mrs. Birch was rushing off to rescue her treats. Wow, that's just like Mom. I wonder if they watch the same sort of TV shows when they're supposed to be baking?

"By the way, Brendan's out right now. He likes to help his father out with field work." A laugh echoed from the kitchen. "Honestly, they get so into it sometimes it's more like having two children instead of one."

Terra smiled, thinking of times when her own mother had been forced to start banging pots to call her and her father to dinner when they'd really gotten into strategy and training. "I can understand that."

"I'm not really complaining, though," Isolde said as she gingerly shifted the cookies from the baking sheet onto cooling racks that she'd set out earlier. Terra's mouth watered as the sent of warm, gooey butterscotch… Oh, she made Oatmeal Scotchies and they're not cool enough to eat! Not fair! "after all, ever since he started this whole research thing he's been so much happier. Sure, he made much better money as a doctor… but he was miserable. Now I think he's doing something that he feels is worthwile."

"Huh?" Doctor, Pokemon researcher… that's a fairly large jump. What changed his mind? "Why the change?"

"To be perfectly honest, he's never really told me. Right before we got married, he just up and announced to everyone that there were bigger mysteries outside the operating room, and he wanted to be out there finding them. Everyone was shocked, but I think they were even more surprised when I didn't pitch a fit and call off the marriage on the spot." She snorted indignantly at the very thought. "As if I only loved him for the money he was poised to make. If he had stayed a doctor, I'd see even less of him then I do now. I was actually grateful when he announced the change."

Right before they got married… isn't that around the time I was born? And why does that seem significant? she wondered to herself. She banished that niggling something as best she could, writing it off as one of her odder fancies. "So, if he's not around, where do you suggest that I try to find him?" she asked out loud, wondering what he might be like. An image of a gawkish boy with large glasses and a Butterfree net popped unbidden into her head. Ugh, I remember that kid! He was a creep! Brendan's probably nothing like that at all! Her brain helpfully turned bug-hunting kakis lab coat white, substituted some complicated mechanical detection equipment for the net, and gleefully added buck teeth and bad acne to the face. I hate you, brain, she snarled angrily at it. We like the intellectual type, remember?

But of course there was no response. Only crazy people got responses when they tried to talk to themselves. And she wasn't quite crazy yet. She'd need at least another week in this town before she became that desperate.

"He might be in the lab. I'm sure you've seen it already if you've had a chance to do any looking around… it's probably the biggest building here. Don't get your hopes up, though… Brendan and Tristan do a lot of field work, so chances are good that they won't even be there at all."

"Okay, thank you…" she replied, pushing away from the kitchen table with no small amount of relief at having escaped from the company of yet another adult. If they ARE outside town, at least it would be an excuse for some decent exploring, she silently consoled herself. "Maybe if they're not around I could swing by and wait here, with some of those delicious-smelling cookies for company?"

"Butterscotch addict, are you?" Isolde asked with a laugh. "Well, at least there'll be someone around to stop Brendan from inhaling them all. I swear, that boy is going to get fat if he keeps on eating sweets like there's no tomorrow…"

The pokemon lab was singularly unimpressive. Other than being twice the size of the other buildings in Littleroot, it could have easily been mistaken for a slightly more prosperous house. In fact, judging by the trimmings and the front porch, it had been a slightly more prosperous house once in the not-so-distant past. Only the peeling sign proclaiming the Lab differentiated it from the other buildings. That, and the… holy Ho-oh, that's a Rover. The bright red, fuel-guzzling four wheeled monster parked in the dirt lot of the lab stuck out like a sore thumb. Only someone who sweated solid gold pellets could afford the precious oil to keep something like that operational. Fossil fuels were almost completely used up over a century and a half ago… now only the rich can afford to use them. Even most cities run off of the power generated by Electric pokemon or, if they're really on the cutting edge, solar power, and have for quite a while. Not to mention that petroleum is noxious as all hell and most wild pokemon will attack things that emit it as encroachers on their territory. Someplace as tame as the area around Littleroot seemed to be probably wouldn't be all that bad, but four wheeled transportation really wasn't practical in most areas of any continent. Sure, they'd been able to get a moving van to bring their stuff, but that was only because the League had been willing to pay for it. Otherwise it would have been well outside her father's modest salary. What are people who can afford to drive something like that doing in a place like this? she couldn't help but wonder as she forced her feet to drag her body past the brilliant red marvel and into the lab.

The inside of the building looked much more like what she expected from a research lab. What had once been the front hall was now lined with bookshelves crammed with books, little multicolored fluorescent strips of paper hastily marked with notes flagging almost every book. Through a side door she could glimpse several computers that appeared to be monitoring something, as strings of incomprehensible numbers scrolled endlessly across the screen, making her head spin unpleasantly before she jerked her eyes away. Still, even with all the obvious changes, a house was a house, and the lab still had a pervasively… homey feeling to it. She'd visited the lab in New Bark Town (more like snuck inside and begged the professor in charge to give her a starter pokemon and let her start her journey, but for the sake of her pride she would call it visiting) and it hadn't been much bigger than this, but it had felt like a lab. Well, you saw the car outside, maybe they're here to give this lab a grant? The first thing they could fix was the paint job, for it was sad and in need of immediate surgery if it was to survive A closer look into the main room discouraged that theory almost immediately; because she didn't see anyone who looked like a chief lab professor eagerly trying to convince the moneyed folks to part with vast sums of cash. Instead, she saw a male lab assistant who appeared to be in his late twenties trying to placate an increasingly annoyed set of individuals who looked like they made more money then anyone in this place would see in a lifetime.

"I apologize Mr. Verandi, but you did arrive ahead of schedule, the professor will be here shortly to finish your daughter's registration…"

"He had best come soon," the man interjected icily. "I was in the middle of serious business negotiations in Slateport, and I will be highly annoyed if I must lose a day over whatever it is that this petty mock-up of a lab is calling research…"

Someone who would normally make Terra groan over the excesses of the upper class made her shudder instead. He was slender, with finely-formed features beginning to show the first traces of wrinkles and violet hair beginning to pick up feathery wings of gray at the temples. His tailored dove gray suit, too warm for early summer, should have made him look more pampered and harmless, not imposing. He didn't look imposing, not really. But there was something about his piercing silver eyes and the way his too-thin fingers drummed impatiently on a desk that made her inexplicably uneasy. She almost never got that sort of feeling about a person after having seen them for only a few moments and started backing off to the side, ready to make a quick exit if necessary but not yet ready to stop looking. These people were probably the only interesting thing that was going to happen in Littleroot for a long, long time. The daughter he had been talking about registering (she was the only person in the room that could be a daughter) looked down at sneakers so new and obviously expensive that they seemed to shine with their real-leather glory and shifted from foot to foot, biting her lip. It was painfully obvious that she either wished that she was somewhere else, or that the rest of her family was. Her slender shoulders and instinctively defensive stance gave off the sort of 'squeeze me, I'm cute' vibe that had drawn Terra into losing arguments time and time again over what her parents lovingly referred to as her 'hero complex'. How was she going to survive her training journey? Could she even find food without the help of five different servants? Could she… Woah, back up, Boyden. Not your problem. And can't be your problem. You'd have a better chance of sprouting wings and flying into the sun than you would convincing your parents to let you go on your own journey, Terra reminded herself with a sigh that felt, to her, as if it issued from the core of her being. Sure, her dad had run away from home at the tender age of twelve to begin fulfilling his dream of becoming a Gym Leader, and here she was, fourteen years and two months old, and her parents had just barely begun to allow her to wander within the limits of even a tiny place like Littleroot without escorting her or hovering like mother Pigeot with a clutch of newly-laid eggs! They were impossible!

Okay, less getting pissed over things you can't do anything about and more surveying the room, she told herself. An older woman rested a shapely hand on his forearm, murmuring soothing something in the businessman's ear to try and calm his impatience. She certainly didn't look like the sort of person to be settling disputes. Her frame was all bone and sinew, finely toned to the peak of physical fitness. With her blood-red curly hair and piercing crimson eyes, she looked more like a goddess of war than any mere mortal, even with the first hints of crows' feet tugging at the corners of her eyes and a few rebellious strands of steely gray infecting the scarlet perfection of her mane. She must have been a knockout when she was younger, Terra thought with a brief spark of jealousy. Oh sure, she had a pretty face and she managed her limbs far better than most teenagers her age seemed to, but she was still at the stage of growing where her body still looked like a thing of hastily cobbled together legs and arms without any real womanly curves, only the tiniest hopeful hints of a bust and hips. Her mother kept reassuring her that she would grow into her body eventually, but eventually just seemed to be getting farther and farther away rather then closer. Now, if only she could become a Trainer…

This time she stuck out her jaw when she sighed, angling the burst of air so that it went under her bandanna and caused it to puff up slightly. More then anything else she wanted to become a pokemon trainer like her father. Well, maybe not just like her father, she wanted to have lots of different types of pokemon. But what she really wanted to do more than anything else was to travel, to see as many different things as she could and find friends of her own for a change. It hadn't been so bad when they had been living on the road, but the longer they stayed in one place the antsier she seemed to become. The mere thought of spending the next four years in Littleroot was nearly enough to make her contemplate tearing out the rest of her hair.

"A few days' delay might be good for you," a young man suggested to the businessman. "It seemed to me that our people needed a few more days to perfect the next stage of the product."

Terra clapped a hand over her mouth to keep herself from gasping and giving herself away. A young man with shoulder-length violet hair, much like his father's, leaned into her field of vision. His dark red eyes seemed to convey a very high level of intelligence and something about his high cheekbones and refined features seemed to speak to her of a certain nobility of spirit. Sure, the navy blue turtlenecked top and pale blue blazer were probably too hot for the weather, but he looked… he looked…

Well now, isn't this intelligent, drooling over a guy that you've never even seen before who probably wouldn't look at you twice? she sneered at herself, turning on the heel of her shoe and stalking out of the lab. Better to leave now before she did something truly stupid. Like staring at the brother until her eyes fell out of her head. Or, worse yet, trying to talk to him. Wow, and can't I just picture that conversation. 'Hi, my name is Terra, do you already have a girlfriend? Do you need another one?' She snorted in disgust at herself. Maybe there's a river around here or something. It would give me something pretty to look at, and maybe I could take a dunk to clear my head… I should be fine as long as Mom doesn't catch me. Sneaking away wouldn't be too hard. She'd done it all the time in Fuchsia. Granted, Littleroot was a great deal smaller than Fuchsia, but it shouldn't be that much harder, especially with John the Mover Guy to provide such a good-looking distraction…

She was about halfway to the edge of town when she heard a scream.

"Tauros dung," she hissed to herself, her gaze snapping to the gate out of the village where some little kids had begun to gather, up on their tiptoes and leaning as if the open gate was a wall they couldn't cross. "Out of the way, kids!" she shouted as she elbowed through.

"You can't go out there!" one of the kids protested, grabbing onto her leather belt. "The wild pokemon will eat you!"

"The wild pokemon won't bother you unless you make a point of encroaching on their territory," she replied, disentangling his hands and bursting through into the empty dirt road. "Besides, someone needs help! Can't you hear?"

"You're gonna get eaten, crazy lady!"

"Yeah, the Tailow are gonna peck your eyes out!"

"Bloodthirsty little brats," she muttered as she ran deeper into the woods. They were only little kids, six and seven and eight and nine. They were far too little to be talking about eating people and pecking out eyes…

She hit the first clearing on the dirt road, where the wild grass stopped abruptly at the edge of the dirt road. A middle-aged man in a lab coat stumbled almost drunkenly through the waist-high grass, and a little Poochenya leapt cleanly out of the cover and nipped at the edge of his pristine white coat.

A single snort escaped from her as she bit down hard on her lip.

"Stop laughing and help me, girl!" the man shouted as he stumbled onto the road, the Poochenya right behind him and yapping madly. "There are pokeballs in my bag! Hurry up and use one of them!" The bag in question was blocked from his own grasp by the impish little pokemon that was still snapping at the edge of his lab coat.

So, two options. Fight, or talk my way out of this…

Screw talking. I'm not going to blow my secret over something like this. Besides…a glimmer of hope came to her… If I fight my way out of this and do a good job, maybe I can sweet talk him into registering me! She made a mad dash for the bag and snatched the first circular object that came to hand, hurling it as hard as she could.

"Pokeball! Go!" she shouted. Something small and red hurtled past the professor, landing more by accident then by design directly between him and the Poochenya, which shied back a pace in startlement. There was a burst of light, and out popped a small, orange birdlike pokemon. The pokeball bounced right back into her hand, just like she'd seen her father do thousands of times throughout her childhood. A heady euphoric feeling rushed up, but she crushed it ruthlessly. This isn't real. You're not a trainer yet, and you probably won't be one until you're eighteen. Now concentrate, you have a serious job to do… Operation Saving of the Lab Coat. No, seriously… concentrate. Thankfully, considering how little she knew about Hoenn region pokemon, it was one that she did recognize, a Torchic. Okay, it's a fire-type. I'm guessing from how little it is that it can't be much more than a newly-hatched chick, so I can't count on it knowing fire-type moves just yet… although if I didn't have an AUDIENCE I could just ask… "If you have Growl or Leer, use one!"

-Actually, I know Growl!- the Torchic replied cheerily. Although, all a normal human would have heard was, "Tor, torchic!" It then issued forth a very disturbing noise somewhere between an animalistic growl and a chirrup, causing the Poochenya to nervously dance back a step. Okay, that should have taken the edge off of the Poochenya's attack power, now let's try something of our own… I wonder what its attack move is? Probably either Scratch or Tackle at this stage of development… I'm going with Scratch.

"Good job, little guy! Now follow it up with Scratch!" The brave little Torchic bounded forward, just as the Poochenya shook off its unease and began its scuffling, awkward charge. It pounced on the Torchic, but the tactic backfired, serving only to expose its underbelly to the little chick's sharp claws. The Poochenya howled in pain and leapt off as if burnt, scrabbling away as quickly as its paws could carry it, leaving a trail of bloodsplaters on the grass in its wake. "Alright, excellent job!" she gushed to the Torchic, although she felt strangely dissatisfied and a little guilty. That hadn't really been a fight, all they'd done was chase off a drastically weaker pokemon. She found herself feeling sorry for the poor little Poochenya who had only been defending its territory from the idiot with the white coat and the needles… Oh, stop feeling sorry for the brat. He was making a nuisance of himself, picking on someone who wouldn't fight back. You don't need to feel sorry for him. "Did that Tackle attack hurt you?"

-Not nearly as much as my claws hurt him!- the Torchic replied cheerily. -Although… I can't help but feel sorry for him. He wasn't much more than a puppy… but he should know better then to pick fights with humans.-

"Well hopefully the lesson will stick and he won't have so much trouble in the future," Terra murmured as she bent over on the pretext of checking for injuries. No one knew that she could do this, not even her parents (although she privately thought that her father suspected). She couldn't let some strange scientist find out. Sure, this Birch was a friend of her parents… but that didn't necessarily mean he'd restrain himself from cutting her open to see how she worked. It didn't even necessarily mean that he'd feel all that guilty about it, either.

The Torchic blinked up at her in confusion. -You can understand me?-

"Yeah, but it has to be a secret, okay?" she muttered to it – no, something about its voice sounded masculine to her. "You seem to be just fine, little guy. I'm glad!" she announced loudly enough for the professor to overhear while ruffling the bright yellow feathers that adorned Torchic's head.

-Fine, be paranoid,- he snorted, rolling his eyes. Terra sighed. It wasn't like she was going to have an opportunity to explain things to the little guy later… Well, not unless I'm very lucky.

"Thanks a lot!" the Professor sighed, wiping sweat off his brow. "I'm Professor Birch… in case you couldn't tell by the getup," he waved his coat like a banner and Terra giggled. "I was studying pokemon in the tall grass when that Poochenya jumped me. Somehow, it managed to throw my bag all the way over there so I couldn't get to any of the pokemon in my bag… clever little guy. I'm Professor Tristan Birch, by the way. You wouldn't happen to be Terra Boyden, would you?"

"I'd pretend to be surprised, but in a town this small you must know everyone on sight," she replied with a charming grin. "So, do you get chased around by wild pokemon often? The kids at the town limits were sort of treating this like a spectator sport."

The professor blushed. "Aheh...just because I love to study Pokemon doesn't mean I'm very good at battling with them. Were they taking bets yet?"

"Not that I saw," Terra replied neutrally, wondering whether she should be offering condolences or treating the whole thing as a joke. It's too bad I don't know more about his personality or what kind of research he's doing, or sweet talking him would be a whole lot easier!

"Something to be thankful for, I guess," he sighed. "However, this isn't the best place to have this conversation," he added, scanning the greenery as if more Poochenya were amassing to attack. Although, considering the pup was a canine-class, it wasn't all that unreasonable to assume that it ran with a pack. "Would you care to continue this conversation at the lab?"

"Well, sure. I guess you'll be wanting your Torchic back now…" she lifted the Pokeball to recall the Torchic, feeling a pang of loss already, but Birch's uplifted hand froze her.

"Actually, I think it would be best if you keep him."

"W-what?" I can't believe that it was this easy! I didn't even have to try and convince him! And of course if she was going to be keeping the pokemon he would have to register her! Immediately!

"As you saw earlier, fighting pokemon are wasted on me. I merely hold on to them for trainers waiting to start from Littleroot, and no one has spoken for that Torchic yet. As Norman's daughter, I know you'll be a phenomenal trainer. We can just go right over to the lab and get you registered…."

Registered… she thought dreamily to herself. He hadn't said a word about getting her parents' permission. Probably, like so many other people, he assumed that because her father was a Gym Leader, that she would be following in his footsteps. Wait, speaking of fathers and registering… "Um… would you happen to know a family, husband, wife, son, and daughter who practically reek of money?"

"Huh? The Verandis? How do you… oh no. They're early, aren't they."

"Um, if by 'early' you mean 'here right now and have been waiting for a while'… then yeah, they're early."

"They weren't scheduled to come until tomorrow!" he hissed. "They're lucky I sent Brendan up to Route 103 to collect samples instead of going myself or they might have had to stay the night in the bed and breakfast and waited for the first time in their miserable lives…" he hissed as he scooped up his bag and stormed down the path back to the town.

-He sounds mad,- the Torchic commented.

"He has a right to be," Terra commented, scooping up the little bundle of feathers. "So, ride, be carried, or back into the ball?"

-I have a choice?-

"You're my pokemon now, but I'd rather be a friend then a slavemaster. Do you have a preference? I'd let you walk, but my stride is so much bigger than yours that it's not really practical."

-…I'll ride.-

"Fine by me," she replied, shifting her weight so that he could latch onto her shoulder and immediately regretting it. "Ouch! I'm not a pincushion!"

-Sorry, I'm not used to sinking my claws into things that I'm not tearing to pieces!- he replied, instantly withdrawing most of the pressure. -Is this better?-

"Not really… why don't you perch on my forearm instead?" she asked, dragging her right arm over to her left shoulder, trying to minimize the distance the Torchic would have to move. It hopped easily enough over the small gap and clamped down on her arm. It was a lot less painful, but one of the first things she was going to have to invest in was a heavy glove of some sort to protect her arm. "Okay, you comfortable?"

-Yeah,- the Torchic replied, still sounding surprised that she cared so much.

"Okay, there's only one real ground rule for being my pokemon… please try not to talk to me too much when there are other people around. If other humans found out that I could talk to pokemon… well, I'd either be treated like a freak or I'd have so many people bugging me to translate for them that I'd never get anything done. Or a fair helping of both."

-That sounds annoying. Okay, I'll do my best to remember.-

"Right, now let's see Prof Birch about getting registered, she said, using her left hand to retract the pokeball and attach it to her belt. She then ran back into town while keeping her right arm as level as possible, but it wasn't as hard as she would have thought before trying it. "And maybe on the way we can think of a name for you…"

When she slid into the lab about ten minutes later, Birch and Verandi senior were still arguing over the issue of Birch's supposed tardiness in the sorts of forced civil tones that run through a room like drafts of cold air. To her intense disappointment, the mother had stormed off in a huff and the brother had gone to try and placate her, leaving the room much less interesting. She didn't want to get sucked up into this argument. Perhaps she could come back later and…

"I'm… sorry about my dad. He treats everyone like this."

Terra jumped slightly. She had forgotten that the other girl was in the room.

The daughter had inherited her father's slight build and pale gray eyes, although which side of the family the black hair had come from, Terra couldn't begin to guess. Her features were enough of a blend between the two to give her face a suggestion of openness and kindness, something that was lacking from both parents. She wore a deep blue v-neck tank top with crimson embroidery around the neckline and long black gloves that cut off at the fingers A very long and thick midnight blue scarf was wound several times around her neck and still the ends hung to her waist. Hanging at each end of the scarf was an oblong ivory bead about as long as Terra's outstretched hand and maybe as big around as a pokeball, etched black enamel ivy patterns circling the center. Terra couldn't believe that the girl was still breathing, those beads looked heavy. Her plain black linen slacks cut off at mid calf and had darker red laces running up the outsides of her legs. Her vest was black, like the gloves, and covered with pockets to slip convenient things, like potion bottles or antidotes or extra emergency cash. From one shoulder hung a bright red rucksack that matched the belt around her waist, adorned with three pokeballs. She might look the part of a trainer, but the squeaky newness and fabric quality of her clothing said that she had too much of Daddy's money to be anything but green as new grass.

"No offense to you, but your father strikes me as someone with a rather abrasive personality."

The girl tittered nervously, but the rigidness began to dispel from her shoulders. "Well, people certainly don't do business with him for his charming good humor… I'm Lisha, by the way. Lisha Verandi."

"Terra Boyden.," she replied, shaking. "So, are you registering?"

"I hope so," she responded glumly, her shoulders sagging as she glanced over at her father. "He's the one who said I should come… toughen me up a bit, you know? Now it looks like he's having some serious second thoughts."

"So… you're keen on leaving home?"

"More than anything in the world," she said fervently. It felt to Terra like a desperate echo of her own thoughts.

"Well… I'm thinking of leaving on a journey myself." If I can get away from my parents… "Maybe we could go part of the first leg together?"

She glanced carefully at her father, seeming to make sure he wasn't paying any attention before answering, "It might be nice to have some company, if you can pull your own weight."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Terra asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"It means that I've been trained in battle theory since I could understand what my instructors were talking about, I have been instructed in self defense, money management…" she trailed off, her mouth snapping shut with an audible clicking sound. "I will not allow you to screw up this chance for me. I will not."

Terra blinked, slightly taken aback at the abrupt change of mannerisms, from oh-so-cuddly-and-helpless to someone to watch carefully. However, an outburst that normally would have put her back up and driven her to fury breezed past her unnervingly.

-Why are you letting her talk to you like this?- her still-unnamed Torchic hissed.

"Because she's not talking down to me… she's just terrified,- Terra murmured as softly as she could

It was Lisha's turn to look at her with narrowed eyes – even though she hadn't heard what Terra said, it would have been impossible for her to not notice anything when she was standing face to face with her.

"Did I say something amusing?" she growled.

"Not really. I was just wondering if you could tell the difference between what plants are poisonous and what's edible."

"Now why would I need to know…"

"Or how to pick a good camp sight."

"What are you…"

"Or even how to start a good campfire, and how to make sure it stays where it's supposed to."

"Is there a point to this, or are you just going to continue needling me?" Lisha snapped, exasperated.

"Okay, the point is this. Sometimes it can take you a full week to get from one town to another, and no one makes a point of erecting Pokemon Centers in the wild. So, what do you think when you have to camp out between towns? How are you going to even feed your Pokemon? You'll have six someday, and you'll need to be able to forage for them. Time doesn't stop for them just because you recall them. They still get hungry, they still need exercise. If you leave them in there too long, they atrophy and can't fight properly. So, princess, I think that the real question is… can you get through this journey without my help?"

"I… wasn't aware that being a trainer required so much skill in survival training…" she replied, something in her stunned expression and the widening of her gray eyes reminding Terra very strongly of someone who'd had a tree branch dropped on their head.

Terra winced. She'd definitely gone overboard. "Don't worry too much about it, most of the towns on the beginning legs are fairly close together, that's why the registry towns are located where they are. That, and the wild Pokemon that live in these areas tend to be less territorial. So don't worry too much about it, you'll have plenty of time to learn."

Lisha looked askance at her. "How do you know all these things, anyway?"

"My father was a traveling trainer. This is actually only the second place I've lived in permanently," she said, making a sweeping gesture with her free hand. "Hence my eagerness to leave."

Instead of laughing, Lisha actually looked confused. "But why? It's such a quaint, quiet little town…"

"With no one to talk to and nothing to do," Terra sighed. "I'll go crazy if I stay here."

"Are you sure about that? How long have you been living here?"

"Oh… about an hour," Terra replied with a faint blush. "But sometimes you get a feeling for a place. And this place feels like a nap. I don't want to live in such a sleepy little place for the rest of my life, I want to be out in the world doing things, you know?"

"I… see," she replied without a real level of understanding. Stupid little rich kid probably gets to do whatever she wants, sprang into her head before she could quash it. Terra honestly didn't think that was the case, or why would she be so desperate to get away from her family? "So, um… is that one of your father's pokemon?"

"What, this Torchic? No, this is the starter that Professor Birch gave me. I'm still trying to think of a name… maybe… Phoenix?"

-Eh… it doesn't feel right…-

"Why not, I like that one!"

-Well, I'm never really going to have wings.-

"Really?"

-You should know,- the little Torchic replied with a roll of his deep brown eyes. -I'm gonna have really strong legs, not really big wings. Aren't humans supposed to know things like that?-

"Well sorry," Terra snapped, "I'm from Johto. I don't know much about pokemon that are only found in Hoenn."

"Eh… um… can you… understand what it's saying?"

"What do you… oh no…" she actually felt like saying something stronger than 'oh no', but the words just seemed to be sliding right out of her head. The one secret she'd harbored her entire life, and she'd just blabbed it to a total stranger! "Didn't I tell you not to talk to me when there were other people around?"

-…I forgot…- the little Torchic mumbled, ducking its head in embarrassment.

"I should name you Blabberbeak, I swear to Ho-oh…"

"Don't worry, I swear I won't tell anyone," Lisha promised. "In fact… I have a secret too. When we're far enough outside town, why don't I show you mine?"

"Fair enough," Terra replied, only then realizing that she'd just gotten the girl to agree to travel with her. "So… do you have any ideas on names for him? I still think I like Blabberbeak…"

-No way!-

"How about Inferno?" the other girl suggested, cocking her head to one side and looking the Torchic up and down.

"Eh… I don't know… that seems immature to me Like the sort of thing a little kid would name his Growlithe. How about Kindle?"

"Fire eats kindle. What about Coal?" Lisha asked.

-Um, don't I get any input on this?-

"Still fuel, which was your problem with my last suggestion," Terra countered, ignoring her Torchic's complaints. "Why not… no, Ember is an attack name… Sol."

"Hmm… I kinda like that one. What do you think?" she asked the Torchic fuming on her arm

-It's okay, I guess…-

"You could sound more enthusiastic about it. What's your problem?"

-Aside from the fact that you were both talking over my head? I don't really understand why humans have this obsession with naming things. I never needed a name in the wild.-

"Eheh, sorry about that, I was still mad at you for blowing my secret earlier, I guess. A name helps you differentiate between things. Besides, I always feel awkward when I'm talking to pokemon that don't have names. It sort of feels like I'm saying 'hey human!' when I just call you Torchic."

-Is that rude in human culture?-

"Doesn't it bother you? It's like saying you're not worth enough to me for me to learn your name"

-…I think I can see what you're talking about. Sol is fine. But…why are you so nervous over your gift, anyway?-

"To be honest, I'm afraid that if someone finds out about this gift they'll want to take me apart to see how I do it. I don't want to end up being carted off to some fancy lab and having my brain dissected."

-Dissected?-

"That means that they'd cut it up to see how it worked."

-Um, ow…-

"Exactly."

"Well, isn't this a fascinating conversation…" Lisha muttered, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, right!" Terra exclaimed, smacking herself over the forehead with her free hand. "You can't understand what Sol's saying. So, um… do your pokemon have names?"

"Of course they do. Brecca, my Eevee, was a birthday gift. I've had her since I was five…" Something seemed to shadow Lisha's eyes for a moment, and she moved on in a rush as if to take her mind off of whatever had just popped into her head. "Cerberus and Avalon I hatched from eggs. No one else wanted to take care of them, so the trainers gave them to me, and I hatched them. It's actually not a lot of hard work. You just have to keep them warm and make sure that they don't get dropped and break," she laughed, her gray eyes staring at a point in the middle distance. "I was a real dork about it, I'd sing to them and rock them in my toy cradle… just like dollies. I think Brecca thought I'd gone crazy."

"Ugh, what kind of lazy trainers leave their pokemon in situations where eggs happen and then can't be bothered to take care of the result? Talk about people who would make lousy parents…"

"Yeah… you'd probably say the same thing if you'd met them in person," she replied, her expression darkening. Terra took the hint, and decided to drop it.

"May I see your pokemon?" she asked instead.

"Sure! Come on out everybody!" she said almost cheerfully, throwing up her pokeballs in the air to reveal an Eeeve, a Houndor, and a Dratini

"Lisha, what are you doing?" her father asked suddenly, head snapping back to his daughter and his eyes narrowing.

"I was just showing Terra…"

"Foolish, showing a future opponent your entire hand. Have any of the lessons of the world I've tried to teach you entered that surprisingly thick skull?" Okay , it's official. This guy really pisses me off, Terra decided. Something about his tone, equally insulting and endearing, like a song with sweet music and twisted lyrics, just drove her utterly wild with anger.

"Terra's not a business rival, she's my friend," Lisha snapped, her own silver eyes blazing.

"And what happens to this so-called-friendship which you are basing off of five or ten minutes of interaction, when you have to fight her to advance your own career as a Trainer? You are too naïve and trusting… much like Alucard used to be. You will remember what that trust earned him eventually."

Lisha flinched as if slapped, but her averted eyes seemed to hold even more anger than before. "If I may, sir, it was your own employees that…"

"We do not speak of such things in public, Lisha. You know how it upsets your mother," he added, nodding over his shoulder. Both the mother and the son(Alucard. Musical sounding name… ARRGH! Be silent, hormones, I command it!) had left the car and come back in.

"Ricardo, are you quite ready? If we must throw our only daughter to the wilds, then let us do this thing and be done. Waiting weakens my resolve," the woman snapped.

"I'll be out in a moment, Deidre," he replied with a lazy grin. "I just want to remind our Lisha of something before we go."

He took a few confident steps forward, but the Eevee jumped between the two of them with the Houndour only a split second behind. The Dratini curled protectively around her mistress's feet and they all glared and growled.

-Murderer,- Brecca hissed, baring tiny fangs.

-Pupkiller,- Houndour growled in agreement.

-Monster,- the Dratini hissed.

"It appears they all still do as they please," Ricardo Verandi said softly, his silver eyes darkening to a shade much closer to gray.

Fear flashed across Lisha's face, and she pulled her Pokeballs back out. "Brecca, Cerberus, Avalon, return!" she shouted, and all three pokemon disappeared in a flash of red, all looking a mix of indignant and relieved.

"All these years you've been raising them, and they still refuse to obey you. How many years has it been since I gave you that mewling Eevee kit? Eight?"

"Nine, sir," she replied, looking down at her boots. "I'm sorry sir, but they just don't like you. Brecca especially." Okay, one minute she's snapping at him, the next she's acting like a whipped Poochenya. She's… she's afraid of him, isn't she? But why? And why not? He certainly gave off that uneasy aura that unsettled her for no apparent reason. I don't trust him. I don't know why, I look at his face and I can see him ordering my neck broken without changing his expression. She shivered. Don't be ashamed for being afraid of him, Lisha, he frightens me too.

The man chuckled bitterly. "Well, I doubt I've given the creature much cause to love me… but it doesn't have to love me, does it? All it has to do is stay out of the way, doesn't it? Either get it to do that in the future or keep it out of the way." Or you will no longer have it, that voice said. If it is not useful, eliminate it.

Terra gritted her teeth to keep from opening her mouth and saying something terribly stupid.

"Ricardo," Deidre said, her red eyes narrowing.

"Very well, anon, I come," he sighed before turning and giving his wife a smile that almost made him look warm. Then the moment was gone and they were filing out. "I expect a progress check in three months, Lisha."

"Of course, father," she said, bending her waist in a tiny bow at his retreating back. She then folded one arm behind her back and crossed her fingers like a child trying to dispel an untruth.

"And I suggest being careful of the company you keep," he added, sparing a baleful glance behind him for Terra, with her Torchic perched on her arm, probably looking like some sort of barbarian to him. In response to his nonverbal criticism, Terra gave him a wide grin that was all teeth and no mirth. Ricardo Verandi's expression turned unreadable for a moment before he whirled out the door with a half snarl, slamming it behind him nearly in his wife's face. Her expression contorted in rage for a moment before she wrenched the door open and sent it crashing shut in her wake, hard enough to cause splinters of wood to fly off haphazardly. Even through the thick wooden door, the murmur of what promised to be a spectacular argument was audible.

"You're either very brave or very foolish," Alucard said, his red eyes fixed on the door.

"Eh, a little bit of both, I'd guess," Terra replied, blushing slightly at the backhanded compliment.

"Don't be down on yourself, Terra," Lisha said, sticking her tongue out at her brother in a flash of impish childishness, "you're very brave. Most people curl up and quiver when my father starts talking about him." Myself included was silently added by the slight grimace that accompanied that statement. "It's like they think that if they assume the fetal position and beg, he'll go away."

"Do you really think that, or are you just supporting me to contradict your brother?" Terra asked with a penetrating gaze.

"Eh… a little bit of both, I'd guess," Lisha replied in perfect mimicry of Terra's speech patterns and tone. They looked at each other, blinked, and burst into giggling.

"One feels pity for whatever poor fools end up marrying the two of you," Alucard complained to the universe at large.

"Oh, really? I seem to recall a phrase about pots and kettles," Lisha teased with a huge grin.

"It doesn't apply here," Alucard replied, all the humor dispelled from his face. "Because I am never going to get married. Remember?"

"I'm so… wait a minute, why am I apologizing? You're the one who opened the subject in the first place!"

"So I did," Alucard replied as if he had just realized it himself. "Forgive me for my outburst. And now I believe it falls to me to keep our dearest darling Mother and Father from flaying one another alive with their tongues." He gave them a courtly bow that set them both to giggling again and swept over to the door, pausing briefly right next to Terra. "Take care of my sister, will you?"

"I was already planning to," she replied, and for a moment their eyes met. There was something dark and frightening lurking in those crimson depths, but she refused to back away.

"I was right about you, stranger. You're a fool… but a brave one."

"My name is Terra, Terra Boyden!" she called to his retreating back.

"I'll remember it," he promised, giving her a half wave but not turning around. The door creaked open and shut, and then he was gone.

"That idiot asked you to protect me, didn't he?" Lisha fumed.

"Well… um… yes, actually, he did," Terra replied, slightly confused at Lisha's annoyance.

"Argh! I can't stand him! Just because he's six years older than me, he feels this constant need to baby me! I'm not a little kid, I'm fourteen years old! I can take care of myself!"

"So... that would make him twenty years old?" Terra asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant while a brilliant cherry blush started to creep across her cheeks.

"Yup," Lisha replied absently, then suddenly freezing. "Wait a second, don't tell me that you're getting a crush on him..."

Terra was saved the further humiliation of grunting out some sort of reply when the professor came back into the room with their pokedexes.

"Well, I bet you've both been looking forward to this, but these make you official pokemon Trainers," he said with a touch of pride, handing the little red machines over to them. "Especially you, Terra. Your father must be very proud of you."

"Yeah," Terra replied in what she hoped was a tone of agreement. If he finds out about what my parents think of me being anywhere alone for even five seconds... What would he do? It was already too late for him to take back the pokedex. But, by the same token, it wasn't too late for her mother to barricade her in her shiny new bedroom for the rest of her natural life. Not that she thought her mother would actually do that... but it was better not to take chances, right?

"By the way, would you mind if I asked you a favor?" the professor inquired.

Yes, actually, Terra thought to herself and opened her mouth to say so before Lisha cut her off with a "Why not at all, Professor. What do you want us to do?"

"Excellent, could you go and get my son, Brendan, to come back here? He was conducting field research around route 103..."

"Got it, looking for Brendan on route 103," Lisha repeated happily, elbowing Terra visciously when she opened her mouth to object. "In fact, we'll get on it right now, won't we Terra?"

"Sure," Terra hissed with a half-grimace, half-smile. If he had noticed the interactions between the two young Trainers, Birch gave no sign of it. With a few more words of trivial good-bye, the two junior trainers left the lab. As soon as the door was closed, Terra rounded on Lisha, her expression furious.

"What was that all about?! Now we're going to probably lose a day at least!"

"I... don't see what the problem is, really." Lisha said slowly.

"I… well… oh never mind, let's just get out of here as fast as we can! The sooner we finish this, the sooner we can really leave!"

-I don't see what the problem is either,- Sol added. Terra suppressed the urge to recall him to his pokeball and stalked off towards the main gate out of town.

Well, what am I going to do now? she wondered.

Dun dun DUN! Looks like that's the end of the first chapter! And considering how long they are and how much time I put into them, could you maybe drop me a review? Please? (Puppy dog eyes)