A/N: Yay update one year later!

I do still have a rough idea of where I was going with this. Sort of. So I might actually finish this story, yay! (I actually had to go back and reread though. :p)

But yeah.

It's, like, two-thirty in the morning and I don't feel like looking it over for stupid errors, and this is fanfiction and you're just reading this for a brief spurt of entertainment so no I'm not gonna look it over nor am I gonna get a Beta reader because I'm lazy and I just wanna get this thing done because unfinished things bother me slightly and so do run-on sentences but it's too late for me to care. Have a nice read, and good night. :p

Disclaimer: I still don't own Pokemon.

Under normal circumstances, Beck would not have noticed the figure standing on the bridge at all. It was an older boy that looked to be in his late teens, wearing a black jacket covered in multiple pockets. Dark hair was flung in black streaks by the lake winds. He might have been a Trainer, or perhaps someone just standing there for the sake of it. Either way, it was none of Beck's business and the sight of the stranger most certainly shouldn't have caused Beck to pause in mid-step.

"What?" Sarah asked. She followed his gaze to the teen at the bridge. Her eyes betrayed nothing.

He's one of them, the Suspicion Voice declared. Beck felt the urge to shove the voice away like usual, but after Sarah's lecture about instincts and whatnot, he decided to give it a chance. Beck pointed cautiously at the older boy.

"That person…is he…?"

Sarah's lips curved into a small smirk. "Well, yes. He's my contact. Good eye, Beck. I always told him that he looks too shady, loitering around like that."

It wasn't that the boy looked "shady" though—in fact, he looked so extremely normal that it set off the alarm bells in Beck's head. He stared at the person for a moment, and decided that it was the way that the kid was standing. From all angles, it seemed he was simply gazing languorously out beyond the lake, enjoying the view, but there was a strange, subtle stiffness in his stance, an odd vigilant tilt to his head, like he was constantly listening for danger and ready to vanish at anytime.

Beck groaned mentally, absolutely sure that before he met Sarah, he never observed people like he did now. She was rubbing off on him.

Sarah crossed onto the bridge, walked casually up to the stranger, who had his back turned to them, and punched him in the shoulder.

The teen turned around slowly and mechanically, an immense amount of irritation etched in his stormy ink-colored eyes.

"You're late."

Sarah shrugged, glancing meaningfully at some nearby Trainers and with an air of forced friendliness, shoved her companion forward.

"Long time no see, Alec," she said, a big, fake, eerily cold grin plastered to her face. "Dad said he would meet us in the Petalburg Woods, didn't he? Well, let's go."

The boy gave her a cold look, but he stepped forward, past the bridge and toward the nearby forest. When they were well out of earshot of nearby people, he turned back around and glared right at Beck.

"Who's this?"

"That's Beck," Sarah said impatiently. She turned to Beck and introduced her companion with one word. "Kingfisher," she said shortly, like she was reading a label stuck on him.

Kingfisher turned his scrutinizing dark eyes back onto Sarah. "Why do you have a civilian with you, Oriole?"

"He's a Trainer."

There was a dangerous edge to his voice, as he repeated his question. "Why do you have a civilian with you?"

Sarah's own eyes were a pair of green daggers.

"Why—I just simply felt so lonely all by my poor self that I couldn't cope and had to travel with someone."

"Do you realize what kind of danger you could be putting—"

"I came here to deliver my report, not to hear prattling," Sarah said. The very air seemed to have gone cold, become frozen over at the molecular level. "Do you want it now? If not, you can get it from Osprey."

Beck took an involuntary step back, as Kingfisher snarled, "Report."

An intensely cold smile appeared on Sarah's face.

"Nothing much to be said. Zero engagement with hostiles. Internal Affairs investigation ongoing. No new intel. Had a sandwich for lunch. Anything else, sir?"

Kingfisher gave no visible reaction to her sarcasm. "It's been a week and you've found nothing?"

"You've been on this case for the entire month, and you haven't filed a single report yet," retorted Sarah irately. For once she sounded like a properly angry eleven year-old girl and not some kind of robot. "I got no contact upon arrival here either, and Osprey has no idea what to do. Where were you for the past week huh? Maybe if Looker put someone competent in charge …"

The dark eyes narrowed. Beck glanced around nervously. Even though their tones were blatantly hostile, their voices had not risen above a conversational level—but still, Beck feared the pure, unadulterated antagonism leaking into the air would attract attention.

"You have not even told me what exactly I am investigating," Sarah snarled.

Kingfisher's tone could have frozen all the Sinnoh Lakes over. "You are investigating the movements of the traitor in the ranks."

Her anger seemed to melt into absolute outraged surprise. "All this time?" she seethed. "I've been going in circles trying to track information on Team Aqua and that wasn't my mission in the first place?"

"You should have come and contacted me on arrival—,"

Beck was getting tired of this. It was like watching two siblings argue, neither willing to back down. The loss of his Skarmory still weighed in the back of his mind and he'd had enough.

"Okay guys," he said with an uncharacteristic edge in his voice. "Weren't we going to Dewford Town? Gym?"

Then he cringed, preparing himself for the backlash. Instead of erupting at him next, Sarah straightened and nodded briskly. "We're wasting time." Her face was expressionless again.

"You won't find anything in Dewford," Kingfisher said tightly. "I just came from there."

Sarah flashed him a cool, unimpressed glance.

"It's a tactical diversion from my mission then. To have the traitor, wherever they are, feel falsely complacent and secure."

Beck had a feeling that she was just saying that to one-up him.

Kingfisher scoffed and tossed a bag onto the ground.

"Equipment for your mission, courtesy of the higher-ups," he said. "Hope you enjoy."

Sarah picked the bag up and sifted the contents a bit. She fished out a Pokeball and after examining it for a moment, stuck it at an empty slot at her belt. The rest of the bag was full of colorful CD's.

"I don't need any TMs," she said, closing the bag. Kingfisher shrugged and made no motion to take it back.

"It's not my concern what you do with it then. Sell it, burn it, eat it." He turned away, ready to depart.

"Come on," Sarah said, moving past Beck swiftly, eager to get away from her contact. Beck paused, and then, after glancing around at both of them, snatched the bag of TM's from the ground before following her.

Despite the little windshield on the boat, the cool misty water completely soaked him. Beck sighed and smoothed back his dampened blond hair, keeping his other hand on a metal bar to keep from being flung into the ocean. The waves were rough today, playfully shoving their little vessel to and fro. He was cold and wet and a little seasick, and he wished he could go hide in a Pokeball like Igneous.

Sarah stood next to him, getting just as wet. She stared moodily out into the ocean, more irritated than usual. In fact, the only one who seemed to be enjoying the boat ride to Dewford Town was Sarah's Furret. The Long Body Pokemon had his paws on the railing and was leaning forward into the gusty sea breeze. He got splashed in the face several times but he would only produce a chuckling sound and lick the salt from his fur. He shook out the excess water, getting it on his Trainer who glared daggers; Furret didn't seem to care.

"He likes water, doesn't he?" Beck said, at last daring to start a conversation. Sarah gave him the most unimpressed of looks.

"I suppose."

She didn't seem very interesting in idle chatter, but they had fifteen more minutes of rough sailing to do and Beck wasn't going to spend it wallowing in miserable boredom and seawater.

"When did you get him?"

"When he was a Sentret," she drawled.

"Yes, but where is he from?"

"An egg."

Beck turned to her fully, exasperated. "You know, sometimes you act like such a little kid."

"I am a little kid, and so are you."

"Exactly," he said. "How can the police use children as secret agents?"

"Children have the least noticeable eyes and ears. And are the only ones suitable to pose as young Trainers, of course." Her tone was logical, detached.

"Were you always like this?" Beck paused. "I mean, something must have happened. Normal kids don't just become secret members of the International Police."

"I'm not normal," she said, leaning against the railing. "My father was an agent, and his uncle as well. I was raised to do this."

"Raised?" Beck echoed. He looked into her icy green eyes and had the sudden image of Sarah as a little girl, cold and grim, training ruthlessly with her Sentret—not for fun or bonding or in carefree preparation of the lighthearted trainer but for a clear, brusque purpose.

"Weren't you ever unhappy, your life being chosen for you?"

Sarah straightened and gave him a piercing look full of scorn, as though she was explaining a concept too complex for his puny mind.

"My life wasn't chosen for me. At any time I could have cried over skimmed knees and gone to chase Butterfrees. At any time Furret could have flopped on the ground and wailed about Pokemon abuse. But we were given a duty and we chose to do it."

"That's not fair," Beck argued, "to put such a burden on a child."

If he had a choice, he would gladly give up all of his street-smarts and maturity and have his father back. He would gladly become a clueless spoiled brat who didn't know what hardship meant, if it returned his dad.

"We take the burden," she said tonelessly, "so that some other child somewhere doesn't need to. And when we're grown we'll be ready to carry the burden so that some other adult somewhere doesn't need to worry about their children."

Beck sighed and turned back to the ocean. She always had to have the last word.

"Okay, Brawly's team is going to be faster than us," Beck said, meeting each of his Pokemons' gazes to make sure that they were paying attention. "But we have several advantages. We're a tight team, and we've been trained by a scary slave driver. None of us are coddled—we can definitely take on even a guy as tough as Brawly."

He paused and all of them looked around to make sure Sarah wasn't around. They exchanged nervous chuckles.

"We've got teamwork, we support each other. We have you—" He pointed at Baltoy, and the Psychic-type nodded anxiously, fully aware that its type advantage was pivotal for the oncoming battle. "—and also, these."

He held up the bag of TM's and produced the first disc he was planning on using. It was a strategy that Sarah had lighted suggested, and he had thought about.

"This is Trick Room. It'll be your job, Baltoy, to set it up. You're going to be my lead for our battle against Brawly."

The top-shaped Pokemon quivered slightly. It was feeling the pressure of having lost all of its previous battles and now suddenly being relied on. Beck patted it on the head.

"You'll do fine," he promised. "You'll definitely win. Ready to learn Trick Room?"

Baltoy nodded bravely and held still as its Trainer pressed the disc against its head. The TM glowed briefly, imparting the knowledge contained within, before dissolving. Baltoy hummed thoughtfully.

"Alright, we've got to practice our strategy now."

Sarah was currently nowhere to be found but Furret was sunbathing on a nearby rock. Upon Beck's request, the Normal-type yawned, got up, and volunteered to help the boy's team train.

Furret allowed Baltoy to set up Trick Room before attacking. The experienced Pokemon darted forward, only to be surprised when Baltoy dodged easily. Under the effects of its new move, the Psychic-type was faster now, while Furret seemed to be moving in slow motion.

But even when caught in a tricky (no pun intended) situation without a Trainer to guide him, Furret was still a well-trained police Pokemon and a very clever and strong opponent. And he was a straight-up cheater.

After avoiding the Psybeam fired at him, Furret used Trick—and Beck quickly realized that the Normal-type was holding a Choice Scarf. Furret snatched the Sitrus Berry that Beck had given Baltoy (like he had given all the others) and shoved the Scarf into the bewildered Psychic-type's face. The Choice Scarf increased Baltoy's speed…but under the effects of Trick Room that meant he was slower.

"Timeout, timeout!" Beck cried before Furret pummeled Baltoy into bits. "I know you're smart and you're capable of winning against everything and anything—sheesh—but could you work with us here? We're trying to learn a strategy to beating faster Pokemon…and I doubt a lot of them will be holding Choice Scarves!"

Furret shrugged cheerily and returned the stolen Berry in exchange for his Scarf, and agreed not to use his clever counter-strategy anymore. Seriously, though, Beck thought. Sarah was prepared for anything.

By the time she returned from whatever excursion she went off to, Beck's Pokemon could consistently execute their plan. Beck had also taught Rush the Poliwhirl a stronger Water-type move, and used the TM for Explosion on Igneous—Roxanne's strategy of attrition seemed to work, and the tough Numel didn't mind taking one for the team. They had trained until they dropped, several times, and then gotten up and trained again, and Beck had put the matter of his stolen Skarmory away successfully. He was focused on the here and now.

"What do you think?" the boy asked breathlessly. "Am I ready for the Gym battle?"

Sarah looked over them contemplatively. They were all sweaty and dirty from training hard all day, but fiery determination, that joy from seeing results from hard work, burned in their eyes.

She glanced at Furret who squealed his approval.

"I suppose you are."

There wasn't much of a conversation to be had with Brawly; the Gym leader was all pumped up today, eager to get to the fighting part, and so was Beck.

"You're up, Machamp!" Brawly hollered. The Pokeball burst into light and a burly, heavily-muscled, four-armed Pokemon emerged, grinning. It was going to get rough right off the bat.

Beck sent out Baltoy. The Psychic-type cringed back a little upon seeing its giant opponent who cracked the knuckles on all four of his hands. It was clear that Baltoy was nervous; Beck hoped fervently that the little Pokemon would pull through despite the pressure and its previous failures.

"Bulk Up," Brawly commanded, as Beck called for Baltoy to set up Trick Room.

"Quickly, Psybeam!"

Baltoy surged forward and let loose a distorted ring of psychic energy. It flew right in Machamp's direction…and then missed.

The Fighting-type retaliated with a Karate Chop that Baltoy only barely dodged.

"Come on!" Beck shouted. "You've got to focus!"

But Baltoy's next Psybeam missed as well, and the next. By now the little Pokemon's self-confidence was completely shattered—and the Trick Room was running out with each moment. Beck made a quick decision and withdrew Baltoy.

"Your turn, Gloom!"

The Grass-type came onto the field ready to fight. Immediately, he managed to get Machamp right in the face with Poison Powder. He used the Trick Room to dodge any returned attacks, just like they practiced, and launched swift, accurate Mega Drains until his opponent finally collapsed from the well-aimed hits as well as the poison.

"Nice job!" Beck cheered, pumping his fist up into the air. Despite the uncertain start, it was 4-3 in his favor, Trick Room was still up, and none of his Pokemon had suffered damage yet. Things were looking good.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," said Brawly. "You're a smart Trainer. I like that. But no matter how smart you are, you can't stand up to superior power. Show it to them, Medetite!"

The small, lithe blue Pokemon appeared and floated about a foot into the air.

"Quick, Sleep Powder," Beck ordered.

Gloom hastened to obey, but Meditite managed to dodge it.

"Try Mega Drain, this time."

"Meditite, use Light Screen!"

The Fighting-Psychic-type quickly threw up a translucent yellow barrier that deflected the Mega Drain attack.

"Now!" Brawly roared. "Psychic!"

Oh no—

Before any words could leave Beck's mouth, the powerful super-effective attack hit Gloom squarely, sending him flying across the gym. The Grass-type landed, limp. It was a one-shot.

Gloom would be embarrassed about that later, Beck thought ruefully as he withdrew the fainted Grass-type. He rested his fingers lightly over the other three Pokeballs. He felt a reluctance to use Baltoy again unless he had to…the Psychic-type was still shaky, unready…it was down to either Poliwhirl or Numel. In the end he decided on sending out Rush—Igneous's Ground-type moves were useless against a Levitating opponent.

The Poliwhirl proved to be a pretty good match against the Meditite. Rush's new move, Waterfall, was a powerful big threat and every time Meditite attempted to set up a Light Screen or a Reflect, it would targeted with Hypnosis.

"Now—Body Slam!" Beck called as their opponent scrambled sideways to avoid another Waterfall attack. At the last moment Rush obeyed, using the momentum from his water-charged attack to swerve around and slam into Meditite.

With a hit landed, Rush quickly gained a rhythm and pummeled his opponent over and over with Waterfalls until the Meditite was unconscious and soaked on the floor.

"You're good," Brawly admitted with a grin. "But I can counter that."

He sent out a Hitmontop, next. Beck ordered another Waterfall, but the foe blocked with Protect. Hitmontop dodged the next Waterfall as well as another Body Slam.

"Waterfall, again!" Beck shouted, frustrated.

"Now!" Brawly cried in response.

Rush slammed into his opponent with Waterfall—but less than a second later, he was flying backwards. The Poliwhirl landed on his back, completely winded, and then Hitmontop sent him back into the air with a decisive Triple Kick.

Beck furiously analyzed the last ten seconds as he withdrew his defeated Water-type. It took the boy a moment to realize that the Hitmontop had used Counter.

"I can counter that," Brawly had said. Ha ha.

Beck took out Igneous's Pokeball now. He had to be careful; this Gym Leader was very good at suddenly turning the tables.

"Finish him off, Igneous!"

The Numel entered the battlefield with a bored expression on his face like always. But by now Beck could tell that he was focused.

"Flame Burst!"

Igneous let loose a spurt of fire, which his opponent easily avoided. The Hitmontop moved at a blinding speed and managed to hit Igneous with three rapid kicks before Beck realized he had forgotten about the Trick Room—by now it was gone and Brawly's Pokemon were a lot faster.

He cursed his mistake and thought hard about his next move. To have a clear shot at victory, he needed Trick Room up. But could Baltoy, who had to be recalled because of nerves, handle being shoved into the middle of battle all of a sudden?

He had to chance it.

"Come back, Igneous. Alright, it's up to you, Baltoy! Trick Room!"

The top Pokemon made a startled noise that changed into a squeak as the Hitmontop charged at it. Finally, Beck's command registered and Baltoy began glowing—the air around the arena distorted slightly as Trick Room once again came into effect.

"Nice job, Baltoy. Now—Psybeam. You can do it!"

The Psychic-type aimed determinedly at its opponent and this time got off a clean hit. Another Psybeam was all it took to bring Brawly down to only one Pokemon. And even as the Gym Leader sent out a threatening-looking Hariyama, Beck and Baltoy were too busy celebrating the little Psychic-type's first victory.

"I knew you could do it," Beck said fiercely, wishing he could go down there right now and give his Pokemon a hug.

"Fake Out!" Brawly snapped.

The celebration ended as the attack spun Baltoy into a wall.

"Now," the Gym Leader cried, "while it's disorientated—use Belly Drum!"

Beck shouted for a Psybeam, but it was too late; the Hariyama had pulled off the move that maximized its Attack. Every single hit that connected would hurt very much now.

"Focus Punch," Brawly ordered. Hariyama grunted and began charging up for the devastating attack—Beck knew that even with a resistance factor, Baltoy wouldn't be able to take a maxed-out hit from a Pokemon like that.

"Quickly, use Psybeam," he ordered, "but keep your distance and be careful."

Baltoy obeyed. Beck leaned forward and prayed fervently that the attack wouldn't miss—if Baltoy went down, Igneous stood no chance...he heard from someone that Brawly's Hariyama carried the use of Earthquake…

But the Psybeam hit. Hariyama collapsed, unable to move, its focus broken. Beck grinned. The Fighting-type's only other attacks were Earthquake and Fake Out, both of which were useless against Baltoy.

"One more time!"

And that finished it; their foe fell heavily to the ground. Beck didn't waste any time. He leapt onto the field and grabbed Baltoy, hugging the Pokemon to his chest.

"You did it! You did it!" he shouted gleefully. He heard Baltoy make a distorted sound in response; then, the air was lit with a fierce glow and Beck suddenly found himself dangling in the air.

When the boy managed to look up, he was gazing into several large puzzled purple eyes.

"Clay?"

"Baltoy?" Beck whispered. "No, you...evolved!"

He was clinging to one of the Psychic-type's detachable arms. His new Claydol blinked in surprise before gently depositing its Trainer back onto the ground.

"Clay!"

After that moment, time seemed to speed up a little; Beck received the Knuckle Badge and rushed out of the Gym even before Brawly had a chance to congratulate him.

He was so happy that he couldn't stay still, and his good mood certainly hadn't faded when traveling companion returned.

"Baltoy...I mean, Claydol did it," Beck told Sarah. "Claydol got the victory for me."

"Good for you. Your Pokemon should be evolving around now, considering the time they've spent with you," she replied calmly. She was looking out at the horizon. "I have news from Slateport City. We're going there to investigate, next."

He didn't care. Not even Sarah's usual gloominess could drive his good mood away. He hoped that Solo, wherever the trickster Youngster had taken him, was happy; but Beck no longer felt the Skarmory's loss as keenly. Rush the Poliwhirl was a good addition; his team worked well and they were there for him. He had gotten his fourth Badge!

There was a skip in his step as they got into the boat to Slateport, and even as they sailed through more rough waters, Beck was as cheerful as Furret.

Yay, long battle, and another evolution. And off to Slateport next.

Next update? I don't know. But now that I've gotten a bit into it again, I don't think it'll be another year. :p

Thanks for reading, and have a nice day. :D