Author's note: Pokemon and related trademarks are the sole property of Nintendo and Game Freak.
For the record, there will be at least four more stories in the Saffron Justice series following this one. One of those will be a crossover with another, MUCH darker, series that I will start sometime after either this story or the next one.
Language warning:
Hopfmar did not have a pleasant look on his face as Frank walked in. "The Commissioner is in her office," he informed him. "She's hunting your head for some reason."
Frank rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."
Before Hopfmar could say anything to try to calm the younger man down, he was already to the office door and he opened without bothering to knock.
Bethany Steele gave him a cold glance over the top of her small wire-rimmed glasses. "Shut the door, Detective Caldwell," she ordered in a voice as frigid as her personality. Her long, blonde hair belied her businesswoman-like attitude as it framed a face as austere and narrow as her clothing.
In a minor gesture of defiance, Frank kicked backwards, knocking the door shut.
"I heard you came back to the precinct after your regularly scheduled shift was over and decided to do case work," she informed him.
"So?" was his flat reply.
"We have set schedules for a reason, detective. When your workday is done, you leave and do not come back unless ordered or scheduled. Understand?"
Frank snorted derisively. "Where I come from, justice doesn't give a shit about schedules. If something has to get done, it gets done as soon as possible, not whenever your little time clock feels like it."
"I don't think you understand how much of a drain overtime pay puts on this city's budget."
"You're actually going to put politics ahead of doing what's right?"
"It's not politics, detective-"
"Well, it sure as hell sounds like it, commissioner!" Frank snapped, the rage refusing to hide.
She was about to respond when there was a sudden barrage of pounding on the door, accompanied by what Frank could telepathically sense was somebody singing jazz scat. The door suddenly flew open, and an Alakazam in an ill-fitting business suit slid in, holding a psychic note. He stopped singing and stuck out a paw.
"Good morning, Commissioner Steele, I'm Owen Hershowitz, Director of the Kanto/Johto Branch of the Pokebureau!" he half-shouted.
"Yes, I know," replied a clearly irritated Steele. "I was warned you might be coming."
"'Warned'? You make it sound undesirable."
"In a sense it is."
"Well, it isn't. I was just letting you know that Saffron's City Council approved plans to allow the Pokebureau to open a sub-branch right here in Saffron, and two of my best agents are on the way as we speak!"
"WHAT?!"
"We're expanding to human cases as well, so we're looking forward to working with the Saffron police to-"
"Well, I'm not!" she barked. "This is an intrusion on my department and I will not stand for it!"
Hershowitz suddenly grew serious. "Commissioner, I know you have some bizarrely inflated sense of self-worth and such, but might I remind you that politically and professionally speaking, I AM your superior. I don't think your ego would take too kindly to being humiliated in front of the City Council, am I right?"
Steele looked like she wanted to swallow a bucket of razor wire. Instead, she sat down and glared at the Pokemon and Frank, who was trying to stay out of the discussion. She opened her mouth to speak, but Hopfmar knocked on the doorframe.
"Commissioner? The Pokebureau agents are here," he informed her.
She sighed. "Send them in," she groaned, feeling defeated, which she knew she was.
Frank's jaw nearly hit the floor moments later.
Victoria Stillwater walked in, wearing a light green pantsuit that would have matched her hair if she wasn't a shiny. Her blouse was open just enough for her horn, and thus some cleavage that Frank knew very well, to show. Seeing her again, as beautiful as he had remembered, brought back a flood of memories.
Next to her, however, was a shiny Gallade.
The Gallade was wearing a standard black suit and tie, with the tie falling on one side of his horn, which his shirt was buttoned around. There was a cut in the back of the suit jacket for the other part of his horn to protrude through. A pair of amber colored sunglasses were hanging from his shirt pocket.
"Commissioner, allow me to introduce Agents Victoria Stillwater and Tristan O'Meara," Hershowitz said.
Steele did not move, so the Alakazam turned to Frank. "You're the great Detective Frank Caldwell, am I correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good! Agent Stillwater, this-"
"We've met," Victoria interrupted.
"Haha, silly me, I forgot. Agent O'Meara, this is that detective I was telling you about, Frank Caldwell. He's the one who took out that killer hacker a few months ago."
"It was a joint effort. Victoria played a huge part in it as well," Frank reminded him.
Tristan put out his hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, detective."
Frank took it, albeit with some hesitation. "Same here."
Hershowitz began rubbing his paws together feverishly. "So, detective, is there anything you're working on right now that my two agents can help you with?"
"Try three connected somethings. Trust me, I can use all the help I can get, I think."
"Yes, get them out of here," snarled the Commissioner. "NOW."
"Right this way," Frank said, leading them out of the office as Steele slumped lower in her chair with rage.
Along the way, Hopfmar stopped to point out things of interest in the building to Hershowitz and Tristan, so Frank and Victoria continued to walk to his desk.
"So, you happy to be coming over here permanently?" he asked her.
"Well, not exactly," she admitted.
"Why? We worked great together then. Why can't we now?"
"That's not the problem, Frank, it's just…."
She stopped. "It's just what?"
The Gardevoir sighed. "I was kinda hoping that he wouldn't find out about you and me and what we did then, Frank. Tristan's my boyfriend."
Frank came to a sudden halt.