Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. Pokémon is the property of Game Freak and Nintendo and all of those awesome people who invented it.

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The robber walked over to the other side of the alley as Mitchell backed over to Oak's wall, still feeling the initial shock of being grabbed so suddenly and violently. Now that the largest part of the pain was out of the way, he could hear his mind telling him to ask her to do it again, more gently this time, but he would never say something like that out loud. He was starting to get a semi-erection, his body betraying his better judgment, but in the darkness of the alleyway it didn't seem like she would be able to notice. He brought Charmander's Poké Ball out in front of him and held it in his hand, pressing the button on the front to make it larger. Charmander pulsed waves of heat in response, showing that he was awake.

The girl slid her fingers up underneath the wool opening of her ski mask and pulled it off slowly, revealing a pale and mature face and long wavy blonde hair. Her eyebrows were thin and devious, and she wore no makeup, save for dark eye shadow. Looking at her, Mitchell got the vivid image of a porn star he had seen on the television at his house, for his father made no effort to hide what he was watching, no matter who could see. Now that he was picturing this robber in such risqué positions as he had seen in that video, he couldn't help but stop trying to suppress his raging hard-on. Who cared? She couldn't see it in the dark, and he was sure that it would go away when the battle started. And if it wouldn't, well, he could deal with that later. After all, he did have all the time in the world.

She pulled her Poké Ball off of her belt and scanned it with her eyes, as if trying to communicate a message through the synthetic metal exterior and into her Pokémon's mind. She felt a puff of air escape from the ball and blow onto her hand.

"Come on out, Pidgey!" she spoke, tossing the ball high up into the air. The seam between the two differently colored sections of the ball glowed white for a split-second before it split open, spitting a blue light into the air that took the form of the bird Pokémon. The ball flew back and landed in the robber's open hand. Pidgey flapped its wings gently and stared at Mitchell, awaiting his opponent's first move. It was oddly colored, though the variation could have been caused by the darkness all around them. The brown feathers that normally covered the back and sides of the bird looked almost black, and it seemed like it might've been invisible if not for its other feathers, white as clouds.

"This is our first one, Charmander!" Mitchell told the Poké Ball as it flew into the air and spat out the gelatinous energy blob that soon formed his Pokémon. The lizard stretched its arms and looked up at the Pidgey, their eyes locking. Mitchell and the female combatant did the same.

"Gust him, baby," the girl said, and Pidgey began to spin around in the air, seemingly sucking in the wind around it. A nearly invisible tornado formed that covered the bird from all sides, the dust and leaves that covered the ground rushing up to meet it. Mitchell was about to issue a command for Charmander to block the attack. It dawned on him that he didn't know what moves Charmander knew.

Charmander glanced back, a worried look on his face as he realized that his owner had no idea what to do. His little mind was racing with ideas. Could he disobey his owner? No, he couldn't. All he could do was stand there and take the attack as it came. But was it really disobedience if his owner said nothing? Wild Pokémon fought by instinct, he knew. Perhaps he could just go by instinct and let Mitchell take over when he felt ready.

"Pidg-oooooooo!" the bird screamed as it pushed on the tornado, sending it flying directly at Charmander. Leaves flew out of it and fluttered to the ground as it moved further from them, and the robber smiled widely when she saw the look of horror on Mitchell's face. It truly was his first battle, and he had no idea how to make Charmander fight. The Pokémon's expression turned to one of disheartened determination, like a weakened dolphin, stuck in a net but refusing to give up hope. The tornado approached, and Charmander did what no one expected. He lunged forward, his tiny feet lifting off of the cold ground as he was sucked higher into the air. The flame on his tail erupted as he twisted and flipped in the air current, his eyes closed and his small body being blasted with fine dust particles. Not too long had passed before he reached the top of the tornado, where Pidgey was floating, ready for the second attack.

"Tackle him, follow up with a Sand-Attack to keep dust blasting into him!" the robber shouted upward to her Pidgey, who squawked in agreement. It flew up and did a flip in the air before diving downward, pulling its wings close to its body to add speed. The girl smiled and looked at Mitchell, who had his eyes on Charmander as he was sucked higher into the tornado. Oh, the fun she was going to have tonight.

Charmander felt a sharp stabbing pain in his side as Pidgey's hard beak hit his ribs, piercing the skin but not doing any other damage. The bird bounced off of him and flipped back over, extending its wings and riding the updraft to the top of the tornado. Charmander was sent downward, but twirled around as helpless as ever. Had he seen Pidgey coming, he would have hit it back. Why had he jumped in this tornado, it was a stupid idea.

The robber looked at Mitchell, who was reaching into his backpack. Was he going for an item? Was Charmander so weak that he would already need a Potion?

Mitchell turned back around, holding a small red device that was flipped open and pointed to the sky, directly at Charmander. She heard a voice that spoke words that she couldn't make out over the roar of the tornado, but she could see exactly what it was. Mitchell was using his Pokédex to check on Charmander's moves. He smiled as Pidgey landed near the base of the tornado, its wings kicking up more and more dust and dirt to blast into Charmander from the swirling vortex.

"Charmander, get out of there and use Ember!" Mitchell shouted to his Pokémon, who heard the command and sighed with the relief that Mitchell had figured out the main concept of battling. He opened his eyes slightly and looked down into the cyclone, seeing the Pidgey spinning around at the bottom, kicking dust into it. His eyes shut instinctively as the Sand-Attack impacted him, leaving a mark that burned a bit. Being a Fire type, he could hardly notice. As he spun, he picked up the rhythm of the tornado and began to shift his momentum in a way that brought him closer and closer to the edge. Meanwhile, the robber was biting her lower lip with anxiety. Mitchell could actually do something now. If Charmander ever found a way out of Pidgey's Gust, then she might be in trouble. Her mind was scolding her for not bringing a stronger Pokémon with her. But she wasn't even supposed to be battling. At the most, Pidgey was only there to help her convince her victims to let her have their stuff.

Mitchell could see Charmander fighting the tornado and trying to get away. He also noticed that by grabbing his Pokédex, he had wiped that smug grin off of the enemy's face. She now seemed concerned that she would actually lose. Good, that's what he wanted in an opponent. And, aside from his need to win so that he could keep Charmander, there was no way that he was going to lose to a Pidgey. A second or two after that thought crossed Mitchell's mind, the Fire Pokémon pulled free from the fierce power of the vortex and dug his sharp claws into the wall of the building behind the robber. He looked at her and smiled in triumph, as if to mock her by telling her that he was just messing with her when it looked like he could not escape. She saw his happy little grin and scoffed. Pidgey stopped pushing dust into the tornado and it dissipated, the wind allowing the humans' hair to settle and their clothes to cease movement. The bird stared at the lizard as it slid its way down the wall.

"Tackle him again, Pidgey," the girl said, her eyes not leaving Charmander. The bird squawked and fluttered its wings, speeding toward the lizard. Charmander waited until Pidgey had come close enough to hit before it opened its mouth. Inside, what was normally a dark pink glowed fiery red, and a jet of flame came forth that ignited Pidgey's feathers as it came closer. Charmander dropped down and Pidgey slammed into the wall, backing up and shaking off the remaining flames as it recovered from the sudden unexpected attack. Its head turned quickly and it saw Charmander standing below it.

"Don't just float there, Tackle him again!" the girl yelled, and Pidgey dove for the lizard. It glanced at Mitchell, who looked down at his Pokédex. Ember seemed to work well, but he had three more attacks he could try out with Charmander. Scratch would not be good in the middle of a Tackle, and Growl was just dumb. But why scratch when you could…

"Metal Claw!"

Charmander retracted one arm, as if to prepare for an uppercut, the bird Pokémon closing in fast. Mitchell could see the lizard's claws sharpen and turn to steel, and it kept its tiny fist open as the bird approached, a horrified look on its face as it saw what fate awaited it at the end of this attack. The girl tried to call to Pidgey to back out, but it was too late. Charmander crouched down and pushed off of the ground, swinging his Metal Claw as he came close to Pidgey. The claw cut through the bird's skin and blood began to seep from the wound. The remainder of the Tackle was spent barreling toward the ground at high speed. It crashed and did not try to get back up.

"Fucking worthless!" the robber screamed, her Poké Ball pointed at the fainted Pokémon. A red light shot from the button on the front, turning Pidgey into the gelatinous energy that Mitchell was used to seeing and absorbed it back into the ball, clicking to confirm that it had locked.

Charmander bounded happily over to his owner, excited that he had been able to share his owner's first match, as well as his first win. He was also glad that he had gotten to use his new attack, learned right after his final battle under Kenneth's ownership. He had practiced turning his claws to metal, but never before had he seen the power behind it.

"Don't move, you little shit!" the girl called out, and Charmander froze. He was not familiar with those words, but he had heard the tone behind them. His eyes climbed to Mitchell's, which were wide with surprise. The robber had her gun in her outstretched arm. Down the barrel, she could see Charmander's head, frozen in fear. Without thinking, Mitchell stepped in front of his Pokémon and shouted out to the girl.

"No way, bitch, we had a deal!" he screamed, and she responded with an angered cry. For a second, there was silence, but this time, it was broken by a noise that grew closer with every passing second. Two different kinds of sirens, one belonging to police. The other, Mitchell noticed, was the trademark cry of an ambulance. It had to be Kenneth's. Mitchell could see the flashing lights of the police cruisers reflected in the distant windows of shops and vehicles, and knew that they had to be close.

"They'll hear the shot," Mitchell reasoned. She knew that. After a second of contemplation, she spat out her final words for Mitchell.

"You don't know what you're missing, kid. This is the start of a long and painful relationship,"

Mitchell saw the cars coming down the street and looked through them, trying to see if there really was an ambulance coming. Two cruisers preceded it, but there it was, annoying siren blaring and making Mitchell wonder if he would go deaf standing so close. He wished he could see inside and confirm that it was Kenneth's, but every instinct told him so. It wasn't every night in quiet little Pallet Town that the ambulances were used.

As the sirens faded, Mitchell remembered that he was still at gunpoint. He looked back at where his new rival had been standing, but she was gone. Charmander seemed equally confused.

"I guess we won, buddy," the human told his Pokémon, who responded with a happy chant of his name and one hand raised into the air. At first, with the lack of light, Mitchell thought that Charmander had just raised his rock fist, and his respect for the little lizard skyrocketed. Kenneth had introduced it to some good music. He realized that it was not a rock fist, but rather a hand waiting for a high-five, but he was still amused. He lowered his hand and bent down to accommodate for the height difference and let the Pokémon slap his hand. It seemed to be happy and fully awake now, even after the rush of battle had subsided. A cold wind blew by and Mitchell went back to his realistic thoughts. They would definitely be sleeping outside tonight, and he hoped that it wouldn't rain. Looking up, there was not a cloud in the sky, but that could change on a moment's notice. He turned around and walked back over to get his backpack. Charmander followed, casting much-needed light on his belongings. He could even see his gun lying about halfway between the two streets that the alleyway connected, thanks to Charmander's tail.

There was one item on the ground, though, that was not his. Sitting next to the pack in a crumpled pile was a pair of black gloves, the ones the robber had worn. He didn't remember her taking them off, but she was not wearing them while she "frisked" him, of that he was certain. Picking them up by the openings, he wondered what he could do with these. Her fingerprints were probably all over them, and he could get her identified and jailed for armed robbery. That would require him going to the police station as well, which he already knew was not going to happen. She would get away with this crime. And, in accordance to the terms of their deal, he would forget that it ever happened.

As Charmander approached, Mitchell noticed a slight deviation in color near the wrists of the gloves. He looked at it closely and saw that maroon threads had been sewn into the gloves, spelling out a word.

"Come here, Charmander," he told the Pokémon, and it obeyed. In the light from its tail, Mitchell saw a single word.

"Bailey," he said aloud. Charmander looked at Mitchell confusedly, not knowing the word.

"Her name is Bailey," he said, and this time, Charmander understood. It ran over and picked up the gun, bringing it back to its owner as he stuffed the black gloves into his backpack. If what she had said were true, then he would want to have the gloves for their next encounter, to explain how he suddenly knows her name.

"Thanks, Char," he told the Pokémon as he took his gun back, clicking on the safety and putting it in his backpack as well. He shouldered it and stood up, starting his long walk toward Viridian City from this alleyway. As he approached the next street, his body screamed for him to just stop for the night somewhere.

"Fuck it, Charmander, are you tired?" he asked. Charmander shook his head.

"I'm tired. Can you wake me up if you see police?" he asked, and the lizard nodded.

"Thanks. Night," Mitchell said as he slid down the wall at the end of the alley, his backpack falling from his shoulder. He was going to use it as a pillow, but it seemed more comfortable to just sit there against the wall and lay his head back. Charmander sat down next to him. Instantly, he was bored.

Mitchell was silent and not touching his backpack, so Charmander sidled over and lifted it off of the ground, unzipping it quietly. He could smell the berries hidden inside more and more as the opening widened, and he suddenly became very hungry. The dark skins could be seen through the white garment, though it could have just been the shadows of the night. Charmander reached in and pulled it out, seeing a small silver object fall further down into the pack. It was Mitchell's cell phone, a Devon Vision520. It flipped open and fell to the bottom, the backlight glowing from inside.

Though the scent of the berries was enticing, the light was even more so. Like the proverbial moth drawn to the flame, Charmander dropped the sock and nearly fell forward into the pack trying to fish the light out.

Mitchell's head fell to one side, nearly resting on his shoulder, but he was fast asleep. Charmander pulled the phone out and stared at the light until it went out, thirty seconds later. As he reached for a berry, his claw pressed down on the left arrow button. The light came back on, and the screen changed, much to the surprise of the young Fire Pokémon. He glanced back at Mitchell, who was snoring lightly. Clearly he took no time in getting to sleep. On the screen, there was a list of names in white lettering, in alphabetical order. He pushed the down arrow and listened to the dull beeping as it scrolled through the names.

Soon, though, he grew bored with the new toy. His claw traced over a button that glowed green, green like the Bulbasaur he had met earlier. Well, he had seen humans push this button and talk to the toy. Maybe it would talk back? He pressed it, and immediately the screen brought up a new window. Charmander did not understand what "Dialing…Joanna" meant.

Soon, though, he heard something come out from the part of the phone that was above the screen. He put his ear closer to figure out what it was.

"-lo? Is anyone there?"

"Char!" the Pokémon shouted, recognizing the voice on the other end. Mitchell jumped out of his sleep and looked around, expecting to see a police officer rushing for him from his car, but only saw Charmander with a happy expression, speaking into his phone.

"Charmander, gimme that!" he shouted, snatching the phone away from the Pokémon. It looked at him with an angry look before reaching for the berries. As he ate from the sock, he kept a wary eye on his owner, ready to back away and hog the sock to get back at Mitchell. As nice as Charmander was, he never let anyone have the last word.

"Look, I'm sorry for calling so late at night, my Charmander was playing with my phone and it just-"

"Mitchell?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Joanna,"

He could tell from the way she said it that it was her. Why someone would try to imitate her, to fool Mitchell, was beyond him, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that no one could ever mimic the breathtaking way she spoke. The closest streetlamp flickered, catching the teenager's attention, and he realized that he could see Joanna's house down the street he was sitting along. The loft window downstairs had the white curtains drawn, but the blue glow from behind made it clear that someone was watching TV, or had left it on. Upstairs, a small window glowed orange, between two others. It looked like a hallway between two bedrooms.

"Oh, hey, sorry, Charmander got my phone and somehow dialed your number. Sorry for waking you up," Mitchell apologized, but Joanna was quick to correct him.

"Oh, no, my dad won't freaking let me sleep. He called the cops on me, and now I've gotta wait until they pick me up and take me to the station. It's ridiculous," she complained.

"I'm not that bad an influence," Mitchell said sarcastically, "What did you do?"

She sighed.

"Nothing. He thinks I know where you are going, and you were on the news. It said to call if you had information, and he thinks I have information, so now I'm forced to stay up even later and wait for the freaking police to show up. You know, I can't believe him sometimes. I mean, if he didn't call, how would his life have been affected? Exactly, it wouldn't at all! And why does it matter if the police find you? It's not like you did anything wrong, and you aren't technically a runaway so you've done nothing wrong! Now I'm being forced to go to the police because of you!" she ranted, but realized that suddenly she was blaming him.

"Harsh," Mitchell commented, but she apologized.

"I'm sorry, it's true but I didn't mean it like that. You know what I meant. It's just it could be different, I could've said yes when Mom asked if I wanted to live with her half of the time she's overseas, but no, I had to stay with my friends and school! You know what, my friends suck! Teenagers in Pallet suck! All they ever talk about is how their parents didn't let them become Pokémon trainers when they were ten! It gets really annoying! I just want to get out of Pallet as soon as possible. And I can't stand keeping Bulbasaur here, either,"

Mitchell listened to her ranting and looked over at Charmander, who was now dumping the sock onto the ground in search of berries that he hadn't been able to fish out. Mitchell almost asked for one, but his mind was on something entirely different. Vaguely, he remembered Joanna mentioning that she wanted her knight in shining armor to come and sweep her off of her feet someday.

"Which side of your house is your room on?" Mitchell asked, noting that police sirens were slowly getting louder. Her grabbed his pack and called for Charmander to follow him, beginning his quick jog toward her house.

"It's in the back," she told him, wondering what he meant.

"I'll be there in a minute," he told her, and hung up. Charmander was close behind.

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Author Notes: This one was getting really long, so I'm going to chop it up into two separate chapters. Chapter 7 will be what I had planned for the rest of Chapter 6, and Chapter 8 will be Mitch's departure from Pallet Town (finally). Your reviews mean a lot to me, and provide inspiration for this fanfic to continue. Also, I will probably have another chapter out either later tonight or tomorrow (maybe) since I have it already planned out. After that, I may spend a couple of days planning the next few chapters, but rest assured, this fic will continue.