Ch. 4 - Puzzle Pieces

Heather's attitude changed rapidly once Kingsley decided she had invaded his personal space.

"He's just trying to be friendly," Heather chokes out from her new position against the room's far wall, holding out the room's wooden desk chair in front of her like a lion tamer. I catch her constantly glancing down at her furiously bleeding right arm, but never for more than a second or two; she doesn't seem to want to take her eyes off the kingler. Not that I blame her.

"I don't care, keep it away!" I shout back at her, still standing in the corner of the room on top of the bed, the knife from the nightstand now in my trembling hands, clutching it close to my chest and pointing it at the offending Pokémon.

The kingler in question was backed against a wall of his own, or rather, the door of the room, eyes darting quickly between Heather and myself, and his claws opening and closing just as fast. For some reason, the sound reminds me of a guillotine, and it makes me sweat.

"Doesn't seem like your boyfriend explained to Kingsley that he was going to be a present," Heather comments.

"Okay, first of all," I snap at her, pointing at her accusingly with the knife but quickly withdrawing my arm, lest the kingler lurch forward and chop my whole arm off, "he's not my boyfriend. Second, I don't care if he told it I'm the champion; I don't want it anywhere near me!" Kingsley makes a sound and begins foaming at the mouth – or what I assume is his mouth. I can't tell if I offended him or if he's just feral. I suppose it doesn't really matter, since either way he's probably deciding at this very moment how many pieces he wants to cut me into.

Heather, however, glances at the crab over her chair. "You know what? I think he's just as scared of us as you are of him."

"You mean "us", right?"

Heather ignores me, sets down her shield – I mean, chair – and reaches over for the pillow on her bed. Before I can ask what she's doing, she dumps the pillow out of its pillowcase and wraps it tightly around her bleeding forearm. She then begins walking; even as she does so, I can already see the makeshift bandage turning a sickening shade of crimson. She holds her injured arm out forward, and then I suddenly realize that she's walking right for Kingsley. Unfortunately, the room is a bit on the small side, so it only takes her a few steps to get within arm's reach.

Predictably, the kingler reacts badly to Heather's arm once again coming at his face. I try to scream but end up choking as the crab's larger pincer snatches Heather's arm in a vicegrip. She screams in agony, causing me to finally scream. She tries to pull her arm away, though other than tearing the pillowcase (as well as her skin, I notice), she only succeeds in losing more blood.

I look around the room desperately, looking for some way to help Heather free her arm while also searching for something to distract my mind from that morbid vision. My eyes find the pokéball still resting on the floor where Heather dropped after releasing Kingsley. I dive off the bed and swipe at it, twisting my body without even standing up first… and throw it at the kingler.

Kingsley did release Heather's arm (which she mercifully withdrew and cradled against her chest as she stumbled backwards) and instead swung his claw at the incoming object, batting the ball away. He then lunged backwards and rammed hard into the door, once again on the defensive. Okay, so that didn't really go how I expected it to, but at least it let go of Heather's arm.

"I think it's broken," Heather said, unusually calmly. I can see the tear streaks down her face, though I hadn't seen her actually crying.

"Broken? You're lucky it didn't rip your whole arm off!" I shriek.

Then, to my surprise, she stands up and begins walking back towards the kingler again. She's a lot more cautious this time (you would think the first bloody arm would have been warning enough, but apparently not). When she gets close, just out of reach of the red rage in front of her, she crouches down and extends her other, mostly blood-free hand towards him. "Come on, Kingsley. Let's try this again," she says.

"Are you insane?!" I cry, leaping back onto the bed and pressing myself into the corner as much as I can fit. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to get your kingler to calm down," Heather says, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You know, you should really be the one down here. He is your Pokémon, after all."

"You're crazy."

"Shush." I can hear the roll of her eyes in her command. She slowly leans forward again, very slowly, stopping when she cuts the distance between them in half.

Then, as if to prove me wrong, Kingsley lifts his smaller pincer and slowly extends it towards Heather's hand. He makes a sound as he nudges her hand with his claw. She smiles at him, but then his claw clamps around one of her fingers. To her credit, Heather doesn't even flinch this time. Instead, she smacks him on the top of his claw and says, "No! Bad Kingsley! No pinching!"

Much to my surprise, the kingler actually bows his head in shame, and he begins foaming at the mouth again. "Wow," I say in awe, eyes wide with disbelief. "It's like it actually understands you."

"That's probably because he does," Heather says with a sigh. "Blake used to own him, and he's already evolved so it's pretty likely that he's used to taking commands from a human. And stop calling him and 'it' already, would you? He's a male. You call your kabuto by his proper gender, why not Kingsley?"

"Because it's… I…" Well, honestly… I don't know. I guess it just hasn't actually sunk in yet that it's a Pokémon – my Pokémon – and not just some random feral crab.

"Come on, come say hi!" Heather says suddenly and just as suddenly I feel myself being dragged forward. I nearly fall as she pulls me off the bed and I struggle to gain my balance.

"No!" I protest. "No no no no!"

"Stop flailing and just say hello!"

I guess I was flailing a little bit, I realize a little too late. My sudden jerky movements appear to have startled the kingler; his foaming becomes more intense and his claws are making that guillotine sound again. I scream and wrestle my wrist out of Heather's grasp and dive for the pokéball by the abandoned desk chair. Just as before, I twist around without standing, but this time I remember to simply recall the red rage instead of trying to throw the pokéball at it.

"Rhonda, no!" Heather shouts. "You can't just recall him as a punishment, or because you're scared of him! You are a trainer. He belongs to you now. You're going to have to play nice eventually." I don't offer any resistance as she plucks the pokéball from my grip and releases the monster within. Then she grasps my wrist again and forces it forwards towards the wild Pokémon. I try to pull away but Heather wraps her other arm around my waist and holds me there. I feel my face heat up and struggle even harder, but she's got a lot more upper body strength than I thought, even with her bloody arm. In the back of my mind I wonder how she's got such an iron grip with a broken arm, but I don't linger on the thought for long. "Come say hello to your new trainer," she coos towards Kingsley.

Then the kingler does something that makes me temporarily forget my worries; he backs against the door and says something that sounds strangely like "cookie, cookie" in a very deep, masculine voice. All at once I'm bursting into uncontrollable laughter at the sound. "Is he hungry?" I ask after a solid minute of straight laughter. I don't even know why the sound was so funny.

Heather sighs, her hand relaxing a little on my stomach, and I feel my face blush fiercely again. "No, that's just the sound kingler make. Now say hi to him! You can't show him that you're afraid of him. Pokémon pick up on their trainer's emotions really easily and tend to copy them. Well, in most cases. You just have to be calm and friendly and he will be too."

"C-calm? I stutter, temporary laughter gone, now all too aware of her hand touching my skin to focus on her words.

Heather seems oblivious to my emotions and instead beckons Kingsley over. "Just don't do what I did and you'll be fine."

The kingler slowly reaches a claw out for my hand, and I scream involuntarily. Of course, this only causes Kingsley to jump in alarm and lunge for me, claw first, causing me to scream even louder. I jump backwards as Heather somehow manages to recall Kingsley to his pokéball, and then we fall backwards, Heather to the floor, me onto Heather.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to recall him out of fear?" I ask after making sure Heather is okay.

"There's a difference between fear and having your head severed," she replies. "Now can you get off me? Your elbow is kinda digging into my ribs…"

"Sorry!" I say, and immediately roll off of her.

"You know, your boyfriend sure knows how to pick 'em. That kingler is as skittish as Blake is desperate. And what better way to say 'I'm sorry' than giving a girl a crab?"

As it turns out, Heather's arm is not broken after all. Still, though, it's going to take most of the day for the doctors to patch it up. I'm eager to finally get moving to Valencia Island, but I expect they'll want her to stay the night just to be safe. I also expect she'll put up a pretty good fight, though I don't know if she'll end up winning that or not. I'm not too sure when I decided I couldn't leave without Heather, but at this point I knew it was true, at least until I knew her arm was better. I also decide it's safe to remove that stupid bandage that's been on my head since the pitfall incident.

While she's occupied, at her request, I take Kingsley down to the beach to have another shot at talking to him – mostly because I do feel a little guilty at her getting hurt, even though I didn't actually do anything. She's right though; Kingsley is really mine now, so I'm going to need to either learn to control him, or get rid of him. And honestly, I'm not okay with that option.

My hair pulled back into a ponytail once again, I stand on the beach in only my pink bikini, having left all my stuff back in the Pokémon center save my two pokéballs. Looking around, I try to pick out a relatively isolated spot to let my Pokémon loose, more because I'm afraid of another back-alley incident if anyone ever sees Kabuto again than the damage Kingsley might possibly cause. I guess that's a bit of a concern too, though.

Unfortunately, it's a beautiful day so the beach is pretty packed. I do spot a small area void of people a few meters away from some sunbathers in the middle of the beach that's also not too far from the water, and since that seems to be the only place large enough for my Pokémon to be let loose without worrying over anyone else's safety, I heard towards it.

Reluctantly, I release Kabuto first. I mean, he is my starter, after all. I'm just going to have to get used to him being seen by other people at some point. Might as well try to get used to it early. Maybe then I won't second guess myself whenever I just want to spend some time with him. I'm hopeful that he'll be able to hold his own against Kingsley also, should this come to blows – hopeful, but not optimistic. At the very least, though, he should be able to keep Kingsley busy long enough for me to recall him if things get out of hand. And really… I just don't want to have to do this alone, either.

Kabuto clicks his standard greeting when he spots me and I wave back to him in return. "Hi," I say. "So, listen… we have a new teammate." Kabuto starts clicking loudly, hopping up and down as if he's having a sugar rush. Over the time I've known him, I've pretty much come to believe that this is how he shows anger. "I didn't catch him without you or anything," I add, trying to calm my fossil. I kneel down in the sand and put a hand on him, holding him down. "He was… sort of a gift. Kind of an unexpected, unwanted gift. But he's here now and I can't just get rid of him. So I need you to help me calm him down, okay? Oh and you might have to battle him or something, he's a little jumpy. I don't know how he'll react."

Kabuto clicks again and then climbs up onto my lap before latching onto my stomach. Awkwardly, I stand up and look down at him. I hear a giggle and look to my left and see a boy, maybe two years old, pointing and giggling at me. My cheeks flush in embarrassment, which only deepens when a psyduck, presumably the child's, waddles up and mimics him. I quickly look away, eyes unfocused. "I… don't need protection, Kabuto. Um… well, at least… not like this. I need you battle ready, not pretending to be a piece of armor…" Kabuto climbs up my chest and pokes my cheek with a claw, clicking once before detaching himself and falling back to the sand with a dull thud.

"That's better," I say. "'Kay, ready? Here he comes…" I warn, dropping Kingsley's pokéball to the sand and releasing the raging crab.

My first thought is Oh shoot, I forgot my camera! I mean, besides Kabuto, Kingsley is the first Pokémon I've ever owned as an official trainer. That's gotta count for something in my scrapbook! Of course, I didn't actually capture him on my own, so when I do finally catch my own Pokémon, I can add that as another first… I still need to get a picture of Heather, too – my first trainer battle and my first friend. So many firsts…

I quickly discover that Kabuto and Kingsley don't really like each other much. They don't really come to blows, but I can tell that they're not pleased with each other. Kingsley keeps clasping his pincers together at Kabuto with that guillotine sound, while Kabuto is constantly clicking louder to make himself heard over it. Thankfully, no more than a couple bubbles and globs of mud are exchanged between them, though. I wonder what Kabuto could be saying that has Kingsley so animated yet still rooted in place at the same time, especially because my kingler hasn't actually said anything back. At least, not that I've heard. And I think I'd have heard him.

As if on cue, I'm distracted from my thoughts by a masculine grumble of "cookie", followed immediately by the grumbling of my stomach. Really? I frown as I look down at it. We had lunch only a few hours ago, and I know it's getting late in the evening, but the sun hasn't set yet and I only just got here. I'm really not in any mood to go eating right now.

Then I'm distracted from those thoughts by the fastest clicks I've ever heard. Looking around, I discover that the sound is coming from my Kabuto. I honestly didn't even recognize him because of how fast he's clicking. I actually can't believe they're all coming from one single kabuto. I look around the immediate area, half expecting to see another kabuto right next to me.

Instead, I catch the eye of a familiar little blonde girl wearing a blue bikini. I can't quite place the face, but I feel like I've seen her before. And judging by her posture – hands on her hips and a rather cute scowl on her face – she definitely recognizes me, and is not pleased about it.

"Are you lost?" I ask, turning my back on my Pokémon. I hear Kabuto stop clicking and turn towards us. Kingsley doesn't make a sound, so I take that as a good sign.

"Where are my daddy's g... gary… gyarados!" she cries, dramatically pointing at me.

Oh. That's where I remember her from. "Dena, wasn't it? Why are you asking me? You said they were stolen, right?"

"Yeah! And you did it!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I think you've mistaken me for–"

"I saw you!" she exclaims, stomping her foot in the sand. "At the restur… res… at the food place! You were with him!"

Strange… she sounds like a toddler learning to talk. Did she sound like this the last time I saw her? "Sorry? Him who?" Kabuto slides into my peripheral vision to my left and I think I can see Kingsley just behind him. They seem well behaved, anyway, so I let them be.

"The man who stole daddy's ga… gary… it was him! The man in–"

"…In the lab coat," I finish for her. "Oh my god…" I bend over and retrieve my kingler's pokéball from the sand and stare at the string of numbers written along the bottom.

"Honey, meet me at the Pokémon center tonight. I'll have your gyarados brought back to you, okay?"

The little girl stares at me for a minute, face screwed up as she tries to decide whether to believe me or not. "Okay…" she says finally. Then, "Please… bring them home… daddy is very sad without his g… ga… his gyaradoses."

"Don't worry, I'll bring them to you, I promise." I turn away and begin walking back towards the Pokémon center. I call over my shoulder, "Kabuto, Kingsley, let's go." To my numbed surprise, Kingsley actually obeys, chasing after me as fast as his little legs can keep up, Kabuto hitching a ride on his larger claw. I only barely register the unhappy expressions on their faces though, my own mind too distracted by the puzzle pieces I just had linked for me.

"God damn it, Blake! Just give me a straight answer!" I shout, ignoring the dumbfounded glares of half the onlookers in the Pokémon Center's main lobby.

"I didn't steal them, I just borrowed them for a while," comes Blake's reply over the video phone. Once again, he looks like a child being scolded by his mother.

"Why? Just what is it you needed them for so badly that you had to steal them from a seven year old?" I make sure to emphasize the word 'steal' since Blake apparently doesn't know the definition.

"Research," he replies simply.

"That's not good enough–"

"Rhonda, lower your voice, please! This is a very delicate subject and you're getting a lot of weird looks–"

"I will not! You return those three Pokémon immediately! I want them here in my hands in the next ten seconds or so help me, I swear I will capture arceus itself and use it to smite you!"

"Okay, okay! Calm down, Rhonda. Give me a second, let me get them… I'm done with them anyway…"

Blake leaves the screen, leaving the video call active, and I release a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. I cross my arms over my chest as I lean back in the uncomfortable video phone chair. It took a little pressure, but I guess I do still have a little leverage on him. It didn't take too long for him to admit to stealing the gyarados. I couldn't get him to tell me why he did it, nor how, but I wasn't going to let him get away with that, either. For now, I was content with simply getting the stolen Pokémon back to their proper home. I could throttle Blake in person for it next time I saw him, and get him to tell me exactly what he's playing at then.

Next thing I know, I hear an electronic sizzling sound. I didn't even hear Blake return to the screen and start transferring the pokéballs. I pick up each one as it appears to make room for the next. When all three of them are in my hands, I hold them out to him. "How do I know these aren't empty? I can't very well just check here in case they aren't and three very angry gyarados just materialize in the middle of a crowded Pokémon center."

"They're not empty. I promise, they're in there. And they're asleep."

"You promise? I couldn't trust you before, and now you pull this thievery stunt and I'm supposed to believe your promise that you've just handed me what I asked for just like that?"

"Rhonda, I can't say no to you. I know you don't believe me, but I'm not lying. They are in there."

"They'd better be," I snap. I'm really in no mood to listen to him flirt. I go to put the pokéballs in a safe spot and realize I'm still just in my bikini, and really have no place for them. He chuckles at the growl I release upon this realization. I look up at him with what I'm hoping looks like murder in my eyes, and he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. Behind me, my kingler chooses this moment to kick-start a battle with a wartortle back in the lobby.

"So how's Kingsley?" Blake asks. I reach up and cut off the call.

After returning Dena's father's gyarados (and confirming that, yes, they all really were there), I return to Heather's room to see how she's doing. Unfortunately for me, she's sound asleep, but at least her arm looks pretty normal. There's a small scar left there. I don't know much about them but it looks so small that I would be surprised if it doesn't heal completely and disappear in time.

So now I'm without my Pokémon – I left Kabuto and Kingsley with the nurse for the night after breaking up the battle with the wartortle (who didn't really hurt my kingler, but suffered a concussion from a particularly nasty crabhammer attack) – and now I don't even have Heather for company. So instead I head down to finally satisfy my stomach before I return to the Pokémon center's bedroom.

All in all, this wasn't exactly how I'd planned the first day of my Grand Adventure to play out.

A/N: Well, you know me, updates seven months between is slightly below average. Been actually busy though, this time. Promotion at work, girlfriend, and most recently, X and Y. I mostly forced myself to sit down and write because of a recent review, mostly because I wasn't aware anyone was interested enough in faster updates.

On the note of X and Y, in this and Sweet Sacrifice, I'm just going to write as though the Fairy-type has always existed but only recently has been added to old Pokemon. I'll write it in at some point when it becomes relevant.

And as a side note, I half considered participating in NaNo for the first time this year, but I know how I function. I'd never be able to keep up with that kind of goal, even without the aforementioned higher priorities in my life. Not to mention that if I had, I'd probably end up starting something brand new just for the month, because I really don't want to end up rushing through any of my existing stories just to meet a deadline and then have to go back and edit them for quality.