On the other side of town, Ash found that the quick, warm shower hadn't just taken the chill from his bones. It had left him unable to sleep after all. Throwing on an old t-shirt and jeans, he left his hat and duster behind in his old bedroom. While Misty took her turn in the shower, Ash shuffled down his mother's staircase and into the living room. Togetic blinked sleepily at his arrival from the perch mounted in the corner.
These were the times that Ash noticed, and despised, Delia's absence the most. Okay, his room had been the generic guest room for a long time, he could live with that. It was the rest of the house that got to him in quiet moments such as this. What had once been his own cozy childhood home lay barren and empty without Delia to light the warm fires of love and life. Truly, the home was just another house this way.
Determined to fill the silence, Ash called gently, "Pikachu, where are you?"
Not Pikachu, but Togetic replied with a gentle chirp and nod of his head, indicating further back in the house. Nodding his own thanks, Ash passed into the kitchen, where a flash of light through the back window caught his eye. Running to the sink, Ash peered out over it and into the backyard.
The first thing he saw was the back of the security guard. He'd quickly hired the firm to keep the paparazzi away after his little slip-up earlier this afternoon at the gym. The alternative was killing some nosy reporter in time for the six o' clock news. Which didn't keep Ash from resenting the invasion of his privacy from having security goons lurking around the outside of the house too. The guard, sensing movement behind him, turned and shared a polite nod of acknowledgment with his employer.
The flash of light repeated, drawing Ash's attention across the backyard to Delia's old apple tree at the corner of her garden. The young trainer could just make out the shape of Pikachu through the rest of the garden's foliage. Ash relaxed and smiled. Pikachu was just working off some steam with target practice. After that defeat, Ash couldn't blame him.
Deciding to leave Pikachu to it meant Ash had to find a different way to amuse himself. He went back into the living room and sat down at Delia's vidphone. In a few seconds, he had the connection to Pewter City open. Ash wasn't really surprised when the screen's answering image filled, not with that of his friend Brock Harrison, but of Mimey the Mr. Mime. "Mime!" the Psychic-Type Pokémon lit up with joy at the sight of his mistress' son.
"Hey, Mimey," Ash returned, "You taking good care of Duplica and Brock?"
"Mime, mime?" the humanoid Pokémon chanted with a very human look of, "You doubt?" on his face.
"Great!" Ash returned, "I'm sure they appreciate your helping them just as much as I do." Which had turned out better for everyone concerned than Ash had hoped. Immediately after Delia's abduction, Ash and Misty had been forced to head to Brock's Pokémon Gym. Being left in charge of Delia's house by himself wouldn't have phased the responsible Mimey under normal circumstances. But knowing his mistress was in danger and without any other outlet for his fear, the hardworking homemaker of a Pokémon had nearly driven himself crazy.
Only two days after leaving Mimey alone, Delia's neighbors had reached Ash when they realized her garden was dying from overwatering. And all the grass in her yard had been mowed down to the soil. Ash and Misty had returned immediately. They'd sent Mimey on ahead to Brock, then spent a day fixing the damages before heading back to Pewter City.
By this time, Brock himself appeared on the screen. "You bet we appreciate all your help, Mimey," Brock smiled, "And thanks again for loaning him to us, Ash." Ash smiled back, once more trying fruitlessly to meet Brock's eyes under his friend's thick eye ridges and bushy brows. Only Brock's wife seemed to find success at that. But while he still couldn't see the whites of Brock's eyes, it didn't take much effort to see the big bags of sleeplessness under them despite his cheerful tone.
As the big, muscular man settled into his chair to chat, Ash observed from the other end of the line, "You're looking a little worn, buddy. How's Duplica? Is there something you're not telling me?"
Brock chuckled away the concern with what Ash gauged was a honest dismissal. "She's just fine, Ash. Her quick-clone replacement kidney is now celebrating its third successful week inside her. Her body's systems are back to normal and the tests say she's baking up a perfectly healthy, normal baby in her oven. I'm just struggling to catch up with work."
"Whoa," Ash relaxed, "That's a load off."
"You're telling me!" Brock joked, "Hey, that means this is the sixth month! Can you believe it, Ash? In three months I'm gonna be holding Monica in my arms!"
"Monica?" Ash quizzed.
"Yeah," Brock blushed, "The only bad part about the surgery was we found out the baby's sex. I couldn't wait to name her after that."
Ash chuckled, "Hey, nothing wrong with that! Monica is a cute name!"
"I know," Brock repeated himself, "Can you believe it? In three months I'm gonna be a daddy! I'll have a little girl!"
"You and Duplica deserve that happiness, Brock," Ash reassured his old friend.
"Like you and Misty don't?" Brock scoffed. Then he grew serious, leaning into the pickup. "Hey, I saw the news today. Sorry about your defeat."
Ash attempted to wave the concern away as if it didn't bother him. "Eh, it was nothing. Happens all the time, even in the Elite Four."
"Yeah, but still…" Brock swallowed heavily, upset with himself. Here he had nothing but cheerful news for his friend, while he had to remind Ash of some painful things. But if he didn't, Brock wouldn't put it past Ash to keep something important from him; thinking he was protecting Brock and Duplica. But with his wife and child's safety assured, the mighty Gym Leader of Pewter City wasn't gonna be caught napping again if his friends really needed him. Maybe that would finally stop the pangs of guilt that he couldn't be in two places at once. So Brock finally added, "Have you heard anything about Delia?"
"No," Ash sagged visibly in his seat, "Not yet."
"I'm sorry," Brock replied.
Straightening, Ash corrected him, "For the last time, Brock, don't be. You had Duplica to watch out for. It's not like you took Mom."
"Hey, Ash, when you hear something, you tell me, okay? Don't you dare try to leave me behind. Even Duplica says so, and you'd better believe she wants to come too, if she can."
The thought of the very pregnant Duplica tearing into Lawrence III's goons made Ash laugh. Which was safe since she wasn't there to hear it and get mad at him. Brock, pleased that he'd made his friend feel better, chuckled too.
"All right, Brock, all right," Ash agreed, "You'll be the first to know. I'm gonna let you get some sleep now; looks like you need it." After receiving Brock's cheery farewell and shutting off the vidphone, Ash lumbered into the kitchen for a bite. He was surprised when another flash of light came from the backyard. Ash stared out the window for a second. Was Pikachu still practicing, after all that effort in the Gym Battle?
Apparently he was. Ash decided to wait on the food and see what was bothering his little buddy first. Quickly exchanging his slippers for his sneakers, Ash was soon trotting through the garden to the apple tree. As he drew near, Pikachu's back came into view. So intent was the electric mouse on his practice session that his sharp ears let him down about Ash's approach.
The familiar sight of Pikachu's target practice slowed Ash's pace with a warm feeling. At least this wasn't any different from his other visits home since leaving on his Pokémon journey. How many time had he found Pikachu doing this same thing in just the same spot over the years? And it was years, of course, since Pikachu could only do it annually; when the apples were ripe.
This thought led to another. Had it really been thirteen years since he'd met Pikachu? Well, Ash realized, he had been ten years old that day and he was now twenty-three. The math was easy enough to do but hard to believe when he thought about it.
Suddenly Ash realized he had the living proof of that span of time in front of him.
Pikachu's Thundershocks were missing their targets. The Electric-Type, still shaking with fatigue, was sending every other shock off into the surrounding countryside by mistake. Even worse, between each shock, Pikachu stopped to pant heavily. It was a wheezing pant, an old man's pant.
A few months after starting his Pokémon journey, Ash and Pikachu had met an old surfin' dude, Victor, and his old surfin' Pikachu, Pooka. Pooka had been over twenty years of age and was downright ancient by Pikachu standards. With a jolt, it occurred to Ash he didn't know exactly how old his Pikachu was. Evolving from a Pichu to a Pikachu wasn't a set time limit like some Pokémon; his friend could've been weeks, months, or many years old when they first met. Add thirteen years to that, and Pikachu could be not just over the hill, but barreling down the wrong side to the finish line.
Sobered by the thought, Ash called out softly, "Hey, Pikachu."
Pikachu really hadn't heard him coming. The electric mouse jumped and whirled into a defensive posture, a warning crackle sparking across his body. Of course he relaxed instantly at the sight of his master and friend. Panting anew from the effort of jumping around like that, Pikachu sat on the ground as Ash squatted next to him.
Scratching his little buddy between the ears, Ash soothed, "It's okay, Pikachu. Sorry I scared you. I'm not blaming you for losing the match. Let's go back inside and get some rest, okay? Don't knock yourself out."
Fearing that Ash was mixing some condescension into his concern, Pikachu instead jumped to his feet. Ash pulled his hand free so he wouldn't get shocked as Pikachu turned back to the apple tree. "Pika-CHHUUU!" Once Pikachu brought the Thunder, every apple-and every leaf-the tree had fell to the ground in a heap.
This reminded Ash about how, despite the other Pokémon's age, Pooka's healthy lifestyle had given the elder mouse enough strength to defeat Team Rocket and save the day. Victor and Pooka had enjoyed several more years of loving friendship afterward before the inevitable end finally came.
Which would be just what Ash would do for his friend Pikachu.
He clapped at his Pokémon's impressive display. "C'mon, Pikachu," Ash then cajoled, "Let's go inside. You ferocious fruit killer, you." Pleased, Pikachu hopped into his usual place at Ash's side. A couple of steps and Ash unwittingly outpaced his friend's stiff, sore gait. Ash pretended not to notice Pikachu falling behind as he stopped to sniff a flower. Pikachu pretended not to notice Ash was allowing him to catch up, nor how slowly Ash walked back to the house to accommodate him.
For in the end, Pikachu had all he ever really wanted since Ash Ketchum had proved himself a loyal friend: to be at his partner's side, no matter the stakes or cost.
Along the banks of the Marañón River, Miguel prepared his balsa wood canoe. Once the shadows grew long in his little village, which was easy considering the steep mountains towering out of the jungle all around, every fisherman got ready to bring their nets in from the large, deep river. Miguel wasn't about to let his family go hungry, despite his advanced age. He had a duty to maintain until his son finished college in Peru's distant capital, Lima, and returned to take his daughter-in-law and grandchildren off to a better life.
It would be bittersweet. Their family had been a part of this village since antiquity. But then again, Miguel mused, the village was on its last legs every bit as he was. Every year more and more of the youngsters left for jobs or education in the more civilized areas. Like Miguel's son, nobody had a reason to come back permanently.
Miguel doubted he could adapt to the larger world; he was too old. His village didn't even have any of these newfangled 'Pokéballs' and had to train their Pokémon the old-fashioned way. By living with them. Ah, well. He would be happy to follow both his partners, Maria his wife and Buizel his Pokémon, into the afterlife once his work was done.
His preparations complete, Miguel became one of the half-dozen fishers setting out onto the water. Their village had been founded between several large bends in the river because of the natural coves and bays it made all around. Each fisherman's claim was both protected and marked by several large rocks placed as a wall in the water. These breakwaters made the little bays even calmer and quite safe to leave your nets in all day. Safe from the swift current, at least, which always was a workout with the balsa paddles to get through. Miguel was thankful to the mountain gods for the variety of hardy fish Pokémon he found at the end of each day.
The one type of fish he did not thank the gods for was the notorious Carvanha, of course. Schools of these bloodthirsty little Pokémon were always eyeing him from just under the water. The Water- and Dark-Type fish were constantly stealing catches as the fishermen hauled them in and would gladly munch on any humans who fell into their aquatic domain too. Just two things kept the Carvanha from single-handedly destroying the village's fish supply.
First, they couldn't stand the taste of the balsa trees and vines, respectively, the fishermen made their canoes and nets from. Second, the Carvanha were a little dimwitted. Even with a school's combined brainpower, it never seemed to occur to them to tip a canoe over or jump into one after the humans. So long as you never broke the water first, you were safe.
Ignoring the Carvanha trailing after him with quiet menace, Miguel proceeded to his bay. His was the second closest claim upstream, barely around the first bend on the opposite shore. Which made it hard to reach for the old man but a breeze to ride the current back. Straining, Miguel paddled and twisted his craft, making headway slowly. The Carvanha watched hungrily, living in hope he'd slip his hand just a little too low on the paddle. Just for a second…
Finally Miguel's canoe neared the sharp turn of the bend; his claim and net just a few feet more. Smiling with gritted teeth, Miguel redoubled his efforts, came around the bend, and slid into his bay claim.
The Carvanha paused from following, pectoral fins and tails twitching nervously.
Several different species of fish Pokémon dropped out of the sky all around him. Into the water, into his canoe, into his face. Barely remembering to hold onto his paddle, Miguel yelped and cursed in surprise. Then long strands of woven vines, dripping wet, smacked against his face from above as well. Miguel clasped the mess and realized he was looking at his own net. With a big hole chewed in the bottom. A hole he was looking through and could see the large Pokémon, still holding the net in its mouth, that had done the deed looking right back.
It was the eyes that enraptured Miguel for a second. Oblong orbs in a long, triangular head like a Charizard's, but the deep blue eyes were the color of the ocean. That was all Miguel noticed before those eyes widened in a far too human look of surprise. The Pokémon let the net go as it instinctively reared away from him, its beak going slack.
Miguel's own net accidentally draped around him. Already shocked and now frightened, he twisted and fought instantly. His canoe promptly tipped over, dumping him outside the breakwaters and into the current. Entangled and unable to swim, Miguel was swept past the Carvanha school before they could see him coming. Instantly they rallied. The current pulled his net tight around him, drawing Miguel into a ball. Still struggling, still conscious, and still bouncing across the river's bottom with the current, Miguel saw glimpses of a dozen blood-red eyes and gleaming yellow teeth closing on him. He shrieked, his last breath forming bubbles rising toward the surface.
A large, white cylindrical object sliced as effortlessly through the water as a torpedo. Any Carvanha that did not scatter before it were simply plowed right out of its way. A massive limb unfurled from its smooth sides and clamped onto Miguel, using the net like the scruff of a Meowth's neck. Within seconds the man was on his back on the beach. A triangular head, almost too small for its thick serpentine neck, bent close. Its sharp beak and fangs severed the net without even drawing blood from the fragile human's skin. Miguel couldn't spare any time to look at the Pokémon as he instinctively rolled over, coughing up the water clogging his lungs in the creature's shadow.
Over his own gagging, Miguel could hear his fellow villagers' commotion getting nearer. The shadow of the creature above him changed as huge fins, long and wide as a small airplane's wings, spread once more. The Pokémon dove beneath the river's surface with a mighty splash that almost capsized the nearest of Miguel's human rescuers. Some of the fishermen kept coming to secure his safety; others scanned the river anxiously for their visitor. Miguel finally got his breath back and sat up, wheezing only slightly, as the first of his friends reached him.
Reassured by his safety, the fishermen cheered their unknown hero.
Then one of them cried out in alarm; another big splash from the next bay claim. The torn net was twisting in the breeze as it drifted down alongside the freed Pokémon falling back into the river. The Carvanha surfaced to meet the incoming Pokémon and doom them to the same fate as if they'd never left the net. Just under the surface, the vast white shape rose anew and soared through the waves, scattering the school and giving the trapped Pokémon, just like the trapped Miguel, a fair chance at seeing tomorrow. One by one each catch for today met the same fate, moving steadily upstream. Moving ever higher and deeper into the mountains…
The fishermen didn't cheer the loss of their day's catch so much.
But Miguel was grateful anyway.
Ash started awake at the gentle hand on his shoulder. Softly, Misty added, "Hey, c'mon up to bed. You're going to break your neck if you keep sleeping in the chair." A little groggy, Ash looked around before recalling he'd nodded off there. Pikachu was yawning and stretching in his lap from his own snooze. He looked up at Misty, who had left her bathrobe open, allowing him to see her undershirt and panties. A sure sign she was serious about just sleeping. Oh, well.
With Pikachu off his lap now, Ash waved the mouse and Togetic alike to come up after them. Both Pokémon, glad not to be shut out of the bedroom this afternoon, cheerfully fell in behind as Misty and Ash went up the stairs. No sooner did the group reach the bedroom door, however, than the sound of the back door's squeaky hinges reached them through the quiet house.
Being the only one dressed, Ash naturally waved Misty into the bedroom. "I'll handle it," he added, "Just a security guy checking in, anyway." Misty nodded and did as she was told for once. Togetic followed, naturally, but Pikachu paused with indecision. Ash, confident of the intruder's identity, gave Pikachu a warning graced with a smile. "I'm gonna want my side of the bed when I come back, Pikachu."
Always a big fan of body heat, Pikachu dashed into the bedroom to secure his favorite place: against the small of Misty's back. Which would be right in the middle of Ash's side. Despite his warning, Ash knew he'd have to surgically remove Pikachu again to claim some room in the bed upon his return. Togetic, all too familiar with Misty rolling over or kicking in her sleep, did not envy Pikachu a bit as he settled onto the dresser's perch.
Ash shuffled back down the stairway, yawning. "Hey, Officer Callahan, is that you?" he called. The security force's shift chief did not respond. Frowning, Ash realized he hadn't heard the new arrival go back out again just as he returned to the living room. Whoever it was had to still be in the house. Flipping on the light, Ash paused. For an instant the room seemed both empty and undisturbed. Then Ash realized the vidphone was back on.
The brightly lit screen framed the head and shoulders of a man seated in the chair with his back to Ash. A sinking feeling in his gut warned him just as the chair, with impeccable timing, spun around to reveal its occupant's identity.
"Giovanni," Ash said, "You sure know how to make an entrance."
"Thank you, Master Trainer. I might say the same for you." The older man inclined his hard features slightly in a nod, making his long ponytail wiggle. He'd changed back to his dark turtleneck sweater and khaki pants instead of the orange business suit. Which was a good sign to Ash. The suit had marked Giovanni's former position as Gym Leader of Viridian City. Its absence meant that Giovanni too had accepted the outcome of their last duel.
This thought made Ash relaxed enough to quip, "And you say that I show up in the most interesting places."
Giovanni favored him with a second's thin-lipped smile. "Perhaps that is a another trait we have in common, Master Trainer," the latter suggested mildly.
The title brought a moment of silence as the two men stared at each other, trying to discern each other's intentions. An observer stuck in the silence might've noticed the resemblance between the two. Giovanni's hair was still jet-black and age had not yet stolen the power from a frame that could give Brock a run for his muscles. If Ash allowed his hair to get so long and bulked up his athletic build into a more powerful one, the resemblance between father and son would be unmistakable.
Ash finally broke free of the spell of seeing a face eerily like his own in the mirror, especially in such familiar surroundings as his mother's home, to say, "So. It's been a month. Are you here to tell me no news is good news, or do you know where Mom is?"
"Actually," Giovanni confessed, "I don't have the information yet myself. I've arranged a meeting with my contact here; his indications were very promising."
Just then the thunder of Misty's footsteps on the stairs sounded behind Ash. Led by Pikachu's sharp hearing, Misty and Togetic joined the Electric-Type in rushing into the room. Misty's unfastened bathrobe billowed around her with the movement and a ready Pokéball was clasped in her hand. She relaxed only slightly at the sight of Ash's guest.
Giovanni, taking in the couple's fairly undressed state, inquired with a tiny gleam in his eye, "Am I interrupting something? I can come back later…"
Misty shot back, "No, thank you, we're fine," as she tied her bathrobe shut tight. Togetic perched on her shoulder and Pikachu took up his usual spot slightly ahead of Ash's feet. The mouse's long ears were twitching anew, however, toward the back of the house. "Pi?" Pikachu wondered, gasping for breath after the run downstairs.
A young man, clad in a security uniform and cap, came in from the kitchen. "Master Ketchum, Leader Williams," he nodded introductions to the couple. Ash cut him off, indicating Giovanni, "Don't worry, he's okay."
"I know," the other youth replied, "I let him in. Allow me to introduce myself." With a flourish, the newcomer took off his cap and his hair tie. A long stream of red hair, reminding Ash strongly of Jessie Morgan's former hairdo, spilled out and across his back. Glad to be free of the restraint for awhile, the young man replaced the cap on his head while the tie was banished to his pocket. He introduced himself, "Rudolph Silver, Interpol. Please, call me Rudy."
Ash, Misty, and their Pokémon studied the new arrival as they shook hands. For a split second Ash had the funny notion that Rudy could almost pass as his and Misty's son if Rudy hadn't been their age. Rudy's lean, athletic build could've come from Ash; the flame-red hair was definitely Misty's. The face was different, of course; Rudy's high cheekbones and square jaw combined aristocracy and Hollywood handsome.
Inwardly, Ash shook his head; Misty and Brock had him thinking about having children way too much lately.
Rudy, naturally, took their measure during the introductions as well. Ash wondered if their reputations matched their looks in Rudy's eyes. Apparently satisfied, Rudy offered the comment, "Director Lance tenders both his warm regards and his regret that he can't handle this case personally. He doesn't get much time for field work anymore, I'm afraid. Don't worry; you haven't been short-changed by my presence."
Misty asked, "Interpol, huh? Have you been undercover in our security firm for long?"
"Actually, I'm not undercover at all," Rudy admitted, "I just used this uniform to slip through the cracks. This is only one of my clever disguises; we'll need them to get into Peru."
"Peru?" Ash and Misty chorused. Giovanni absorbed the information impassively.
"Yes," Rudy confirmed, "The agency received an excellent lead. We don't have Mrs. Ketchum's exact location, but we have a place to begin our investigation. I apologize; our assets in the area are a little short-handed. The plus side is that Lance knew you two would want to be in on it anyway, and considering your Pokémon Trainer skills, I agree that both of you would be a tremendous aid."
With an exaggerated sigh, Rudy turned a honestly hard gaze onto Giovanni. "Which, strangely, looks like it will include Mr. Columbo," he continued, "You've been shaking down every government and criminal tree you've got for information, including Interpol. I can't allow you to show up uninvited and ruin our investigation at the last minute; so you might as well work with us instead of against. But remember: I'll be watching you. I can't figure out what your angle is yet, but I won't allow you to harm this missing woman or her family here."
Giovanni seemed faintly amused by Rudy's theatrics. "So kind and considerate of you, 'Rudy'. I didn't think you had it in you," the older man replied mildly.
"Why? I thought 'weakness' equaled 'kindness' in your book," Rudy challenged, "Since when haven't I been a weakling to you?"
"My book? Or would that be your book too?" Giovanni alleged calmly.
"People change," Rudy snorted, "some people, anyway. But then again, you never had anything to change from, did you? No, you were always just the Viridian City Gym Leader. Nothing to tie you to being the Boss of Team Rocket, was there? Once you betrayed and discredited those who tried to turn evidence against you, at least."
Ash and Misty alike were becoming alarmed at the growing heat in Rudy's face. Giovanni merely gazed right back, meeting Rudy's eyes with glacially impassive calm. Finally the older man responded quietly, "Such as yourself?"
Rudy turned to his charges with open surprise, "I was never a member of Team Rocket, never! If you don't believe me, ask Lance. Or Jimmy Gold. You must remember him, Master Ketchum. He won the Johto League Silver Conference about ten years ago. Ask him who helped battle Team Rocket when they took over the Goldenrod City Radio Tower."
Ash beat Misty to the punch by responding, "I thought I recognized your face, Rudy!" Misty added, "Yeah, you did make the news over stopping that break-in," but in a more subdued tone. A glance at his betrothed confirmed to Ash that Misty still had her doubts about Rudy's trustworthiness. Ash inclined his head slightly, indicating wordlessly to give Rudy a chance. Misty just as subtly tightened her jaw to say don't be naïve and let's check his references.
Rudy's training and experience combined to read the couple's gestures like a book. He quickly came up with another bit of proof he was on their side. Rudy turned back to address Giovanni, but a wave of his hand indicated he was a part of the complete group on this subject when he said, "So don't forget; I'm just the same as your main accusers at trial, here. I know exactly who and what you really are."
"The scandal alone," Giovanni pointed out with quiet resignation, "forced me to step down from my Pokémon Gym. Was not the fact that I was publicly branded a fool dancing to Team Rocket's tune-for the second time-enough for you?"
"Enough?" Rudy bit back his next words, hard, to struggle for self-control instead.
Misty quietly but firmly interjected, "If you have any information on Mrs. Ketchum's whereabouts, Agent Silver, maybe you'd better tell us and go. We can get another agent to help us get there if necessary."
Her words shocked Rudy back into professional mode. In a very normal yet very controlled voice, Rudy asked, "No, please. Director Lance agreed; I need to do this. For my own reasons."
It was not Misty but Ash who asked calmly, "Which are?"
Rudy could not help but sigh heavily. "My stake is just as personal as yours in this case. To find and save your mother, I will have to work with…my father."
Everyone else in the room froze save their eyes, glancing back and forth between the Interpol agent and discredited Gym Leader. Rudy looked gruffly apologetic despite his next bold words, "Yes, I have changed, Father. For the better. That includes accept- admitting our relationship. Even in public."
Nobody studied Rudy's face as hard as Giovanni did for one long moment.
Finally, the older man admitted quietly, "It has been a long time since I saw you last. A very long time. You have changed, indeed." Regaining himself, Giovanni clapped his hands lightly before continuing in his strong, normal baritone, "Perhaps I should get acclimated to having a few things off my chest as well. It will be good practice for me; I haven't forgotten our little deal, Master Ketchum. When this is over I will have a great deal of legal matters to discuss with Interpol. That should satisfy you and Agent Silver alike. But for now, allow me to clarify the introductions: Ash Ketchum, this is my son, Rudy Silver. Rudy Silver, this is also my son, Ash Ketchum."
More than a little irony laced Giovanni words as he finished, "I shall have to thank Director Lance for assigning you this case personally."
Text, original characters, and events Copyright © 2011 Keith E. Kimball. This is a fan work and not for profit.
All other characters, events, and trademarks Copyright © their respective holders including but not limited to Nintendo Company Ltd., Tatsunoko Productions, GameFreak, The Pokémon Company, Shogakukan Production Inc., 4Kids Entertainment, etc.