EDITOR'S NOTE: "There's a slight chance that May shares my bad writing habits. This is one of many reasons I like being a few chapters ahead of the audience."

Brendan accepted the professor's request, and had been given a route that May was likely on. With Adam, he didn't have to worry about being ambushed by wild Pokémon, and made his way up to Oldale Town with no trouble.

Oldale Town itself was a different story.

"What's wrong with these people?" Brendan asked, though he wasn't completely sure that his new Pokémon could hear him through the ball. He'd just been ambushed by a Pokemart worker, who had handed him a free Potion before going back into his building, and then he'd taken a wrong turn and ended up being pushed aside by a man who was saying something about rare Pokémon footprints.

"You'll understand someday," the man had told him, before getting back down to keep sketching.

So, Brendan was on his own. He didn't even have a map to point him in the right direction.

"Maybe she got forced into going a certain way, too," he continued, as if Adam was perfectly capable of hearing him. "Straight up to the next route, then?"

There was no answer. Figuring it was a yes, Brendan headed north. Better to be the lost new kid than the guy that talks to himself.

After all, it's not like the son of a Gym Leader didn't have his famous parent's reputation to protect...

Well, it wouldn't be the first time Norman had to pick him up after a court-ordered therapy session.

He didn't really recognize May when he saw her under a tall tree. Her mouth was tight and her eyes focused, her fingers moving the green, sparkly pencil across the page of a tiny notebook. Then, with no warning, she stopped writing and frowned.

"No," she finally said, staring blankly at the page. "He'd never say that. I could make him say it, I guess, but then people would..."

"Something tells me that this isn't Pokedex research."

May squeaked and, to Brendan's surprise, threw herself over the notebook before closing it. "Don't do that! The stuff in here is only ideas - they're not even rough drafts yet!"

"I wasn't asking if I can read them," Brendan reminded her. "I am kind of curious, though. What is it?"

May sat there in silence, looking up at him with distrust in her eyes. "It's a short summary for a fan fiction story that's shipping my fan character and...um, the cute trainer from Space Heroes. Ken."

Brendan wasn't sure, but that sounded like a very bad idea. "You're shipping the character with yourself? Isn't that the first rule against fan fiction writing?"

The distrust turned to anger. "For your information, Brendan, not every fan-made character is a self-insert, even if they have a romantic aspect. Sometimes the romance-influenced character being shipped isn't the writer's type at all." She shoved the notepad into her hip bag. "And other times, such as this, the character is meant to be a false-lead love interest for the real character before the real character realizes he or she loved another canon character after all."

Ok, so fan fiction was a touchy subject for her. He'd lay off it. For now. "Your dad sent me," he told her, and her anger faded. "I think he wanted us to battle, or something."

"He gave you a Pokémon?" May's eyebrows scrunched in thought. "I didn't think it was that time of year already..."

"I fought a Zigzagoon off of him. That isn't important."

"My dad had trouble with a Zigzagoon?" May rolled her eyes, and her entire head went with them. "Of course. I turn my back for ten seconds and he cheeses off the wildlife." She stood up, brushing dirt from her legs, and reached for a ball. "Jerry, take the stage!"

The Pokémon that popped out of the ball, this 'Jerry' creature, was nothing more than a Mudkip with a wide smile. Brendan knew that there was a type disadvantage, but he wasn't hoping to win. He just wanted to let Professor Birch know that he'd made a good decision when he gave him the Torchic.

"Adam, do the thing!"

"So," Brendan said as they sat at a table in the Oldale Town Pokémon Center an hour later. "A writer, huh?"

"I'm working on it," May said, rolling an empty Pokeball around on the table. "That's why I asked my dad if I could get a Pokedex early. There's all kinds of interesting things in the registration, even if some of the urban legends are horrifying."

"He must read your stuff, then."

May got a little red around the ears. "No," she admitted to the table. "I haven't even told him I write yet. He'd want to read it, and that's what I'm scared of. I told him I have diaries, not stories or books of made-up magic spells."

"He might have read it already," Brendan suggested, and May squeaked again and hid her face in her hands. "How many books do you have?"

One eye peeked from between her fingers. "Only a few," she promised. "Seven, maybe eight? Nine if you count the idea book you saw me scribbling in."

"You have eight stories going?"

"It's how I do it. If I hit a wall on one, I pick up another and move through a cycle."

"What about deadlines?"

"I'm not published yet," May reminded him. "I still have time to complete a story before I put it anywhere. But enough about my work. What about you? Why are you on a journey?"

Brendan and Adam shared a look of confusion, then turned back to May. "We're not really on a journey," Brendan finally said. "I just picked Adam up to defend your dad, and he just handed him over."

May laughed, dropping her hands. "You could have fooled me. You're a natural battler."

"Maybe it's the Gym Leader's son thing."

"Maybe." May pulled her idea book and pencil out, and started writing again. No comments about going into professional battling himself, like he tended to get from adults. Maybe she got recognized by her family name and was asked about research the minute people noticed that she wasn't stupid.

If so, then they should start a club.

The lab was waiting for their return, but luckily, Professor Birch didn't seem to have gotten into any more trouble. In fact, he went right up to his daughter and asked her how it went.

"He beat you on his first try?" Birch turned to Brendan and grinned. "You must be lucky. May's been helping me with my research for a long time - since she was just out of diapers!"

"I don't think you should count wrestling tame Poochyena off your papers as helping, Dad," May said quietly, shuffling her foot. "It's more that I've been playing with the Pokémon left in your care since I was born."

"You've still had Jerry longer than he's had his Torchic."

"Only a few days."

"And for those few days, you were the best trainer in Littleroot Town." Professor Birch reached into his lab coat and handed Brendan a device. "Anyway, back to what I was originally going to tell you. I got this Pokedex for my research, but I think you'd be a better fit for it than I would. It's a little early, but I'd like to ask you to go on a journey."

There was no reason for Brendan to take the offer, unless you counted taking the Torchic as absolutely needing to take the challenge that came with him. But, for the few seconds he really considered it, he actually wanted to accept from the start. A journey meant he could prove that he could look out for himself...

"All right," Brendan said, not even questioning how the professor would survive without him to bail him out of Zigzagoon-infested situations. "I'll do it. May can even come along if she wants to."

May's head snapped up. "I can?" she asked Brendan, and, before he could answer, she turned to Professor Birch. "Can I, Dad? Please? Jerry and I can keep him safe."

"Of course you can go. I gave you the Pokedex, didn't I?" He leaned back, watching them appreciatively. "You two could learn a lot from each other. My daughter and Norman's son...I don't think the world stands a chance against the two of you."

And there was the mention of his father again. Maybe there was no avoiding being on the 'professional battler' career track.

Well, being honorary Champion didn't sound too bad.