Chapter 20
Mystery Gift

Paul had never liked looking at photographs of himself. There was an expression for it, he remembered, one of his mother's favourites: the camera added twenty pounds. He managed that just fine without any help of a camera. And then some. Then, there was the infamous resting bitch face. Wasn't that for moody teenage girls, not twenty-something year old men? He felt almost embarrassed for Annabelle to see him captured so clumsily, his eyes lidded and his mouth turned into a tight scowl.

"…I look like a serial killer."

Annabelle was laughing and cooing at the image on-screen. Their new friend, a particularly fluffy baby Pidgey, had already disappeared in a flurry of feathers, stunned by the flash on the camera.

"This is the part where you say "no, you don't, it's just bad lighting!" or some crap." Paul said, spurred on her by silence.

"What? And argue with such a font of knowledge?" Annabelle teased, reaching up to settle Paul's ruffled up hair. "C'mon, you, we've got points to get."

"Just as long as I don't have to be in any more photos…"

Aware of the ticking time limit, the two trekked across the city with the aim to fill in objectives where they could. Annabelle's almost gratuitous enthusiasm resulted in very few solid answers, while Paul thought back on his childhood and many wasted hours spent navigating his Player around the pixelated Goldenrod streets. Whitney the Gym Leader was almost too willing to share a selfie with Annabelle, while Paul opted out, claiming a defunct timer on the camera. At the florist, a few doors down, the owner happily posed with her Wailmer Pail, another puzzle solved by Paul's gaming knowledge.

After those minor successes (a whole two points by Annabelle's calculations), they were running out of easy options. Annabelle forged ahead, an idea brewing in her that she made the mistake of not sharing with Paul. Ten solid minutes of walking quickly had him grumpy and stopping at every street corner to readjust himself and massage his lower legs.

"Wanna tell me why we're suddenly on the exact opposite end of town now?" he grumbled as Annabelle eventually came to a stop.

"Because there's a big famous arch here," Annabelle explained, indicating with a finger the imposing structure. "Reckon you can climb it?"

"Can I hell."

"…alright then, looks like I'm trying," Annabelle sighed, and rubbed her hands together. "Y'know, if I fall off this and die, I'm haunting you forever. Got it?"

"S'fine with me."

The question of exactly how she was going to climb it was another thing entirely. She was sure Goldenrod Council didn't erect these monuments to be climbed by clumsy, unfit young women as a standard function. Was there even anything she could grab onto or would she just come sliding back down, like a squeaky, out-of-breath fireman on a pole?

Under Paul's scrutiny though, she had to do something. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of admitting she couldn't do it. With her gaze firmly on the towering arch in front of her, she swung one leg around the cold metal and grasped for anything higher up that looked like it might provide some grip. Thankfully, it was all knobbly and bumpy, so as long as her upper body strength didn't disappear on her when she needed it most, the arch hopefully wouldn't be too much of a challenge.

But it was a lot higher than she first anticipated. From the ground looking up, it only looked about ten feet high, but as Paul and the rest of the city shrunk beneath her, suddenly she felt like she was scaling Mt Coronet. Annabelle squashed her eyes shut. It was the oldest trick in the book: if she couldn't see, she could trick herself into thinking she wasn't high up in the slightest.

"You're taking forever." Paul offered his sage wisdom from below.

"You're not helping!" Annabelle shunted herself up another notch on the arch, now gritting her teeth as well as keeping her eyes shut.

"There's an eight-year-old on the other side who's gonna beat you to the top at this rate."

"And you'll be eight feet under when I jump off this thing and land on you!" Annabelle would have glared at him if she wasn't too afraid to open her eyes yet. "Now unless you wanna swap places?"

Paul buried his hands deep into his pockets, and glanced the other way.

"Didn't think so." Annabelle said privately when he didn't answer her.

As she reached out for another grip, a sharp gust of wind took her balance. Her panic returned in full force. With her free arm, she gripped the arch even tighter, her hand blindly reaching out for something she could grab. It was beginning to level out, but Annabelle wasn't sure if that was making it better or worse. Every time she felt brave enough to wrench herself a little bit higher, the wind picked up again and reduced her bravado to a squeak.

Come on, Annabelle, you can do this, she told herself. She could feel sweat on her brow and forming at her fingertips. If she slipped now, she was done for.

"Keep trying. You're almost there."

Annabelle's eyes bolted open out of sheer shock. Did she hear correctly?

"You're doing a great job, Annabelle."

That time she was certain the wind wasn't playing tricks on her. Was Paul encouraging her? A wave of thoughts swept through her and she forgot all about how she was suspended off an arch with an eight foot drop separating her and the hard concrete of the Goldenrod streets. Was this just a means to an end for him? Just so she could finish and get this all over with? The wind buffeted her ears; she couldn't tell if he was being sincere. But it was the first time she had ever heard him say such a thing.

Her hands moved as if they had a will of their own. With an almighty strain, she hauled her body upwards. And upwards again. And then, she was a jumble of knees and sweaty hands and suddenly she was standing at the top of the arch.

Adrenaline burst through her like a gunshot. "Whooo!" she yelped against the wind. Her heart pounded against her chest, a golf ball wedged itself in her throat, she was terrified and windswept, but she did it. And she was proud of herself.

"Hold still!" she heard Paul's voice somewhere on the wind.

She put her hands up with a double peace sign and grinned as widely as she could. From down below, Paul gave her a thumbs up to indicate a successful picture.

"Did you get my good side?!" She giggled down at him.

"Yup! Your ass is in perfect view!" Paul rolled his eyes back at her.

"Oh, shush you," Annabelle narrowed her eyes at something in the distance. "Hold the phone… hey, chuck us up the camera!"

"A-are you sure that's wise?" Paul frowned up at her.

"No! But just do it anyway!"

"What if it breaks!? Or you fall?"

"Then I promise I won't haunt you!"

"That's not the problem, Annabelle!" Paul protested. "I mean, what if—"

"No time to argue, Paul! Just throw us the camera!"

Paul instantly found himself clamming up. "You better be a great catch!"

He was suddenly aware of how heavy the camera was, as he bounced his hand up and down in preparation. If this thing broke, then they would surely forfeit every photo on it, and thus most of their points. She could have at least told him what she was planning. Maybe they could have found a much easier, and less risky, way of achieving it.

Paul grimaced. "Here goes nothing…"

With a muttered prayer to any God that was watching them, he launched the camera skywards towards Annabelle. She flailed a little in her attempts, and Paul had a terrified vision of it sailing right past her and shattering on the ground behind her. But luckily for them both, Annabelle's fingers managed to weave around the strap and with a shriek from her for good measure, she had it safely in her hands.

"Good throw!" She loosened her grip on the camera. "Okay, okay, zoom in, and…"

With a click and a flash, another photo was taken. "I think I just got another one!" she called down to Paul below her. "I'll be down in a se-EC?!"

As she turned around, Annabelle lost her footing, and gravity took its toll. With another flash of the camera and a yelp, she slipped from the top of the arch, and had to flail desperately to not fall off completely.

"Annabelle!" Even Paul panicked as the young woman slipped sideways off of the arch. Hanging by one arm, with the camera strapped around her neck, she was incredibly lucky that it didn't end up any worse. "Are you okay?!" Paul's voice cracked more than he would've liked to admit, as Annabelle still hung there like a limp noodle. Eyes wide and staring, it was clear that she wasn't exactly present right now.

"I'm hanging on…" she replied weakly.

"Stop making jokes and get down here!"

She slid down. Agonisingly slowly. Paul felt his will to live deplete with every long second that passed. Finally, she settled herself back on the ground, grinning awkwardly. Satisfied she was safe, Paul pulled out the Objective List. He glanced over the list and then, out of curiosity, checked his phone.

"Shit."

"What? What's wrong? What happened?"

"We're out of time."

"You're joking!" Annabelle gasped.

"I wish I was." Paul grimaced, turning the phone to Annabelle. "We've got, like, ten minutes to get back."

"Well, we better start running!" Annabelle elbowed Paul in the side and took off, camera in hand.

"Running? Ugh." Paul briefly considered if it was even worth it but the thought of Annabelle blowing up at him being slow was enough to make him move.

They made it back just in time to Wooper Park. Dodging in and out of returning hunters, they rushed to the front of the gathering crowds. A friendly staff member took their camera to evaluate the photographs and directed them back to the middle of the park, where a small buffet had been laid out. They were encouraged to spend time talking with the other competitors, but Paul kept his face firmly planted in a plate of goodies and scowled at anyone who got too near.

Just when Annabelle felt she could take the waiting no longer, there was a rustle of movement from the front of the park. A young woman with red hair and a baby perched on her hip had found a microphone and was addressing the crowd, causing instant quiet among some of the younger competitors. "I apologise for your wait, everybody! But we're ready to announce the winner now!"

"Paul spat out the mouthful of sausage roll he had just taken. "Wha? Whatthas?"

"They're announcing the winner!" Annabelle hissed.

"So, we had a record number of participants this time around!" the woman said. "And we're pleased to announce that this year's prize, donated by friends of the Free Spirits dojo, is…" she paused for effect, grinning at the expectant faces of the children in the audience. "…a Heracross egg!"

"Heracross!" Paul cried out in glee. While he was never that keen to repeat any Pokemon type in his competitive teams, it was impossible to discredit a Heracross. High attack, decent bulk, an extremely rare typing, great movepool and the rare case of having two beneficial abilities. Decently trained, Paul could make up for all the shortcomings of his team and present as something of a threat. He wasn't the only person pleased. A murmur of excitement had gone around the crowds and the atmosphere prickled with tension.

"But first, we're going to go through the puzzles on the objective list for all of you that couldn't quite figure them out this year."

"Get to the point, Sienna!" someone yelled from the crowd.

"Yeah, give us the winners!"

"That's SENSEI Sienna to you!" the woman retorted without skipping a beat. "Okay, so… let's start at the beginning, shall we? Our one point objectives! Did everyone figure out which of the Goldenrod citizens cries the most?"

"Whitney!" came several bellows from the crowd.

"Correct! And what was the mystery item for sale?"

A little girl at the front of the crowd thrust up a slightly misshapen toy Chikorita and made the redhead giggle. "That's right, a Chikorita plush! And who made the Wailmer wail? Well, the florist of Goldenrod of course! Remember, you needed to present the plush itself and proper photographs of all the people. We had to disqualify a few entries for… shall we say lacklustre photography? Anyway! Who's mahoggin' all the mahogany? If you said the Goldenrod furniture store, Chair Necessities, you'd gain a point!"

"Did we get that one?" Paul hissed to Annabelle.

"No." she deadpanned. "I didn't think it was that obvious."

"Our three point objectives were a little tougher!" the woman continued, going down the list. "Who knew what the face that doesn't smile is?" when the crowd returned silence, she laughed. "The clock tower, of course."

The disappointed "awww" could be felt all around them.

"Which building in Goldenrod has the most stories?"

"THE LIBRARY!" Annabelle screamed, before her face went white. "Oh no, I forgot about that one…!"

"And the most EGGciting building in Goldenrod? The Goldenrod Daycare of course!"

"Noooooo…. I should have known that!" Annabelle sunk her head in her hands.

"And you call yourself a breeder?" Paul raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely nobody got this next one right. What has a dish but no fruit and waves but no water? Goldenrod's radio tower!"

"Oh come on, nobody is that smart…"

"What is still, but can still kick your ass?" The announcer asked. "Well, anyone who went down to the Azurill Park could have found one of our proctors dressed up as a living statue! And if you beat him, you would have won five points. Unfortunately," she added with a guilty laugh. "He proved a bit too strong for our contestants and nobody won against him, so we're just gonna give five points to anybody that found him."

A man with long brown hair and glasses painted comically in silver waved awkwardly from the front of the crowd. "Sorry guys! I'll show a bit more mercy next time!"

"What a weirdo…" Paul muttered.

"And what ends where it begins? I thought of this one, I was really proud of myself!" the woman giggled. "Well, if you had taken a picture of where our scavenger hunt started you would have been five points richer!"

"Why do these sounds so goddamn easy now that we're hearing them like this?" Annabelle growled.

"I have rivers without water, forest without trees, towns without houses. What am I? Well, three of you lovely pairs figured out that you needed a picture of the map we gave you to get around Goldenrod."

"We are so screwed…"Paul said, feeling the prospect of a Heracross egg slipping through his fingers.

"And finally… our ten point objective. This was one we thought absolutely nobody would get. "Where are all the yellow cakes?" We got photo after photo of bakers and patisseries but you were all a little bit off the mark. But somebody got it. And it's one of our newcomers from the Little Kicker's Dojo. Where are Annabelle and Paul?"

"Haaawah?" Annabelle stood straight upright. "What? How?"

"This!" the red haired woman held up a picture. Squinting, Annabelle could make out an overhead view of Goldenrod City. It was a fairly normal cityscape, houses, shops, and a train speeding away in the distance.

Paul looked just as confused as Annabelle. "Annabelle, you never told me you figured this one out?"

"I didn't! I didn't figure anything out!"

"Anyone spotted it yet?" the woman asked. "No? It's the Magnet Train!"

"How the hell do you get the Magnet train from "where are all the yellow cakes?" Paul's lone voice sounded in the crowds and all eyes suddenly fell on them.

"Let me explain! Goldenrod, in this case, represents yellow! The Magnet train connects to Saffron City. Saffron is used in traditional cakes in the Goldenrod area! So, Goldenrod becomes "yellow" and "saffron" becomes "cakes!" What connects Goldenrod and Saffron City? The Magnet train!"

There was a dumb silence as the crowds digested the woman's explanation.

"That is a stretch, even for a scavenger hunt." Paul remarked darkly.

"It must have been when I accidentally took a photograph on top of the arch. When I fell? I must have caught the Magnet train or something…" Annabelle muttered.

"Anyway! Paul and Annabelle, please come see myself or a member of the Free Spirits dojo to collect your special prize! Next we're going to announce the winner of the Heracross egg!"

"Finally."

"With 28 points out of a possible 49, our third place contestants were… Tammy and Lia from Pancham's Palace Dojo!"

There was a smattering of polite applause. A man dressed in a holey Pancham suit at the back of the crowd punched the air in delight.

"Our second place contestants are… Leighton and Jayden from Empire Dojo!"

A man wearing purple robes let out a yell of glee, squared up to the man in the Pancham suit and yelled "BOOM!" in his face, before making a very rude gesture that, thankfully, went unseen by most of the children in the crowds.

"And our grand prize winners, this time representing Little Kickers… are Brianna and Jasmine!"

Squeals came from the crowd as two energetic teenage girls flew onto the stage. They were followed by the Sensei with shining eyes.

"Thanks so much, everyone, from all four dojos in Goldenrod for taking part!" the woman called out above the hustle and bustle as everyone started to pack up. "If anybody wants to see how well they've done and how many points they had, just see any of us at the front. Please consider joining us again next year!"

Annabelle and Paul remained rooted to the spot as people moved around them. "Well…" Annabelle said slowly. "That was a bit of a bust. I almost died falling off a goddamn arch and we didn't even place in the top three."

"Mystery prize, though!" Paul rubbed his hands together. "Come on, let's go get it."

Barrelling his way through the crowds, Paul approached the red headed woman that had been announcing the winners. Annabelle followed in a slightly embarrassed wake.

"Oh, hey!" the woman smiled as they approached. "Paul and Annabelle, right? The winners of our mystery prize? I'm Sienna, the owner and proprietor of Free Spirits."

"Yeah, hi." Paul offered his hand but the baby perched on Sienna's hips began to cry in protest.

"Oh my God, your baby is adorable!" Annabelle squealed, all thoughts of prizes totally gone. "How old is he?"

"She's six months," Sienna said with a smile. "Elliott? Can you take Naomi, please, just while I get these guys their prize?"

The man covered in silver spray paint broke away from the crowds and took the baby with an obliging smile. Freed from her little one, Sienna pulled out a small box from under one of the tables and presented it to Paul. He took it with anticipation.

Only problem was, it was heavy. It slipped from his unprepared fingers and thudded to the ground, just narrowly missing Sienna's foot.

"Paul!" Annabelle hissed.

"It's heavy!" Paul looked in awe at the slim woman who had handed it to him without any apparent trouble. A woman who had been pregnant not six months ago.

"It's bound to be!" She laughed as Paul knelt down to open it.

"What is it, what is it?" Annabelle asked as Paul pawed through a pile of tissue paper.

He pulled something out of the box, struggling to keep it upright with both hands. It looked like a huge silver bracelet with thick, intertwining fronds. "It's a Macho Brace, isn't it?" he looked up to Sienna with wide, appreciative eyes.

"Yup! You sure know your hold items!"

"What's a Macho Brace?" Annabelle asked.

"Look, you make the Pokemon wear it…" Paul demonstrated by clipping it around his wrist. "…and it helps them increase their power! Well, it's supposed to increase EVs but I don't know if that's a thing in real life—"

"It's not." Annabelle said at once.

"So I'm assuming it helps with strength training. Like when you work with weights."

"Whatever floats your boat," Annabelle said with a shrug. "Just be careful you don't get the Pokemon hurt with it, okay?"

Annabelle's requests fell on deaf ears. With little else to do (Annabelle refused to see how badly they had lost), they bade goodbye to Sienna, her husband, and the rest of the organisers from the scavenger hunt. Despite their loss, Paul was enthusiastic, talking at length about what effects the Macho Brace could have on Pokemon. He spent a long time musing over which of his own Pokemon would most benefit from it and eventually decided on Ledyba. Annabelle's insistence that it be for only short bursts at a time went ignored.

The buffet lunch felt like it had been hours ago. Hungry and tired from running around all day, Paul couldn't ignore the rumbling in his stomach any more. He pulled them into a local pub, The Flying Ducklett, for an early dinner in the posh side of the city. He ordered two beers on a whim, one that had been brewed for hundreds of years locally and who boasted a recipe that had been unchanged since its inception. But when he sat the two glasses in front of Annabelle and saw her return a neutral stare, he remembered that it wasn't really a womanly thing to like beer, was it? But just as he was about to offer to trade it in for a glass of wine or something more suitable, she lifted the glass and drained half of it in one gulp. Then she belched loudly and giggled.

"You're a woman after my own heart, Annabelle." He said, but not quite loudly enough that she would hear.

For "pub grub" it was almost too fancy for Annabelle to negotiate. She picked something from the menu she only half recognised, a fancy fillet of some tropical Alolan fish, served roasted with sea beet (whatever the hell that was), roe and capers. To her surprise it was delicious, flaky and spicy, with not a single bone to be found. Paul tore through a starter and a main of a so-called "sharing pie" which was meant to feed two people. He kept their glasses full, the more he drank, the more generous he became and Annabelle found herself presented with a plate of chocolate terrine flavoured with sea salt and some weird foamy cream in a side dish. Paul paid for the meal discreetly but Annabelle suspected this one meal would have cost the equivalent of an entire week's supply of food for her.

Bellies warmed with food and alcohol, the two finally staggered out of the bar nearing 9pm, giddy and pleasantly tipsy. They spilled themselves out into the cold, clear air of the upper class streets and walked, arm-in-arm for support, looking for somewhere to settle themselves.

They found a park adorned with water fountains and bright golden streetlights. They collapsed into a bench, giggling and spluttering.

"This is the most fun I've had in ages!" Annabelle hiccupped, trying to supress snorts of laughter. The fresh air had been her idea, sober them up before heading back to the Pokemon Centre and the Nurse on duty wouldn't smell alcohol on them.

"Drunk and disorderly in public!" Paul half slurred. "Oh, if my mother could see me now!"

"She not a big drinker?"

"Are you kidding?" Paul waved his hand sloppily. "Expensive imported wines, she'd drink the shit out of those. Same with Kathleen! She's such a snob."

"Older sister?"

"Unfortunately!"

Perhaps it was the alcohol permeating her system and lowering her inhibitions, but Annabelle wanted nothing more than to give Paul a big hug. Sitting out, alone, in the gentle light of the streetlamps and the inky dark of the night, it felt like a scene out of some corny movie.

He reminded her of a Snorlax. So soft and squishy. Could you even fit your arms entirely round a Snorlax? A Snorlax would probably eat a human given half a chance. She remembered when she was seven and Daisy Rushton from her class told everyone that would listen that her uncle's Snorlax tried to eat her annoying cousin when he made it angry. Why was she remembering this now? What were they supposed to be talking about?

Paul had gone very quiet. He was turned away from her, his head slumped slightly forward.

"Paaaul, are you sleeping?" She poked him in the side.

He didn't respond. Not to her.

He was staring at a woman who had just passed their bench. Tall, slim, hair immaculately pulled into a tight bun.

"Paul?" she said, her eyes widening. Her eyes, the exact same coffee brown as Paul's.

"…Kathleen? What the shit are you doing here?"

Author's Note

Oh my God, this arc is finally over. I had planned for it to be so much better and more thought out and not as exposition heavy but it didn't work out that way. Sometimes you just gotta get something out there. I might go back and redo this, maybe add something new in, sooner or later. Maybe.

Anyway! Glad to have snuck in my obligatory Spirited reference once again! It'll make up (maybe?) for my lack of spinoffs or sequels. Hopefully.

I actually have the next chapter FINISHED and nearly ready for publication at the time of writing this author's note. I'll try to read it over and get it published sometime soon.

Thanks once again to The Neverending Meep for helping me get through these chapters and to all of you for reading and reviewing!

See you on the next one!